Cloud Nine
by Acereader55
Summary: The 35th Hunger Games, and it's time for a new batch of tributes to battle it out for the right to live. 24 new children forced to slaughter each other in a brand new arena, and its an arena like nobody has ever seen before. Will the tributes be lost in the twist and turns of the Games, or will they master the tides that so often turn in the Games? Collab with Call Me Fin SYOT OPEN
1. Haunt- Part 1

**Nevada Mulone  
District One  
Victor of the 10****th**** Annual Hunger Games**

* * *

"The Games are coming up again, and I'd like it if we brought another one home this year," I purred, glancing over at our newest victor. Jayce Bellamond; beautiful, confident, deadly. Everything I'd look for in a man; it was a shame he was only 19.

"I think we all want that," Jeffra snarked, flipping her bright blonde hair behind her shoulder.

"Come on Jeffra, we've only just got here," Cruz said, leaning over and brushing the girls arm. That pretty much sums up District One's victors. Me, the eldest and best looking who does her best to keep her herd together. Then there's Jayce; the newbie, only joining us last year but I could already see he'd fit right in, and he'd give me someone to talk to when Jeffra and Cruz had their moments. Speaking of moments, there was Jeffra; the over confident bitch, but the girl was clever and a strong asset to the team. Finally, we had Cruz, the most humble of us all, but even still his ego was nearly the size of the district. We were an interesting mix, but we worked well enough, being just behind District Two and Four for number of victors.

"Have the volunteers been decided yet?" Jayce wondered aloud.

"No, I'll be going in tomorrow to evaluate the top candidates, and then I will reach my decision."

"And which one of us will you be taking with you this year?" Jeffra asked, fake excitement lacing her voice.

Every year I'd go down to the training academy, and watch as the top five boys and top five girls did all they could to impress me, and then I would select the best two, and they would be our volunteers. Of course, this was too big of a decision to do alone, even for me, so I'd bring along one of my fellow victors to help out. Normally I would bring Jeffra. Even though we rarely got along, she was good at reading people and proved to be useful when selecting tributes, but this year I thought I'd mix it up.

"Jayce," I said, smiling at the youngest of us. Jayce was young, but plenty capable. He'd proven that when he broke the record for most kills in a single Games. The kid had slain seven other tributes, an impressive count, beating all of those District Two idiots. My only regret in life was choosing the girl over him last year, and letting Jeffra bring home a victor.

"Very well then, is that all for this meeting?" I nodded, watching as Cruz stood up and offered his hand to Jeffra.

"We will meet tomorrow night again, after me and Jayce select the tributes. My house again, same time." Jeffra took Cruz's hand, allowing him to pull her up before pushing herself in front of him and retreating to the door, leaving behind a very sad looking Cruz.

"I don't know why you still fawn over her," I said, standing up myself.

"You wouldn't understand, you don't care about anything," Cruz whispered, before he too retreated to the door and slipped into the night. Of course his comment didn't bother me, because he's right, I really don't care about anything. Anything other than bringing home victors, and even that's for my own gain, not for the tributes sakes.

"Well, we'll be leaving here by eight tomorrow morning, I suggest you get some sleep," I said, turning to face Jayce, but before I knew what was happening I felt hands on my waist and a pressure on my lips. Squealing in surprise, I knee Jayce right in the stomach, causing him to topple over.

"What are you doing?" I demanded. Jayce was good looking, and everything I wanted in a guy, but he was 19 for Panem's sake, and it's not like I had any extra time to care for someone.

"I don't know," he said, looking up from his hands and knees, his face bright red. The kid had killed seven other kids no problem, but being rejected has got him all worked up?

"I'm flattered, I truly am. But you're 19, get a grip!"

"It was just- I don't know!" He stuttered, attempting to stand up.

"Get a hold of yourself. You're a victor, and a District One victor at that! We don't have any room for weaknesses."

"Wow, Cruz was right, you don't feel anything." I watched as he stumbled past and, just like the other two, slipped through my front door and disappeared into the night.

'I feel', I told myself. Of course I felt. I felt when that District Seven boy threw his ax at my thigh. I felt when that girl from District Ten pushed me down that hole. I felt pain, everyone did. I really had no idea what they were talking about. Oh well, maybe they had all tried some new drug together and these were the affects. No point getting myself worked up. I needed to focus on the Games. I needed to bring home another victor. It was my job, and my life.

Collecting all the left over dishes from the night, I placed them in the sink before making my way upstairs and into my bed. It had been a long day, and tomorrow was only going to be longer.

I tried to sleep, I really did, but it felt like hours had gone bye, but every time I closed my eyes all I could see was Jayce on his hands and knees, bright red faced, staring up at me. It was his fault. I'm a 43 year old woman for Panem's sake. I did what anyone would do, I think. I guess I could have handled it better, possibly let him down easier?

What is this? Me, Nevada Mulone, lying in bed unable to sleep because of what? I kicked some boy who tried to kiss me? I've done that plenty of times in my life! But still, Jayce's flustered faces wouldn't leave my mind.

What is this? Regret? Guilt? Not possible. I didn't care about Jayce, or anyone for that matter, but why else would I be feeling this way?

'Screw it', I thought, slipping out of bed and opening the drawer that sat in the corner of the room. Pulling the bottle out, I poured some liquid into a small glass. I tossed it back, feeling the burn of the vodka as it made its way down my throat. I shut the drawer, and crawled back into bed, feeling my eyelids already becoming heavy. I didn't care about anything, I really didn't. I just needed a little hell to remind myself of that.

The last thing that went though my head before I fell asleep was me, standing on the victors stage with my tribute as this years victor was announced. I'd bring another victor home. I would, and nothing would stop me.

* * *

**A/N: **Welcome to the 35th Annual Hunger Games! This is a collaborative SYOT story between myself and Call Me Fin, Fin for short. This part of the prologue was written by Fin, and the second part of the prologue will be written by me and include the official tribute list for this story.

All of the information, including the form and how many submissions we have to a certain space are available to everyone on my profile.

It is not a first come first serve SYOT. We will be waiting until April 27th to decide which 24 tributes will be taking part in this story. If we don't have enough by that time, we will push the deadline back so be sure to check my profile for regular updates on this SYOT.

We do have a Mentor's Blog up already, so if you'd like to see the victors we have created please click on the link on my profile. A blog for this story will be up when we have all of the tributes.

Fin and I would greatly appreciate your submissions and if you do review we would appreciate that as well. Can't wait to see your submissions!

-Ace and Fin


	2. Haunt- Part 2

**Nykon Adrion**

**District Three**

**Victor of the 23****rd**** Annual Hunger Games**

* * *

"_I'll come back to haunt you; Memories will taunt you."_

* * *

Weak. Pathetic. Undeserving.

I was never supposed to win they said. Never supposed to make it past the bloodbath even. As a 14 year old, I was never supposed to make it as far as I did. But I overcame.

I overcame the odds of a lifetime to win. But did I really win anything? I may have come out of that wretched arena with my hands free of blood, but I am still plagued with the scars of which the Games gave me. All the death that surrounded me; and all the death I am forced to see every year as I watch two of my fellow citizens die, unable to help them.

I am taken back to reality as a pair of long, slender fingers snap themselves in front of me. I look to see the source of the hands, and see the young face of our recent victor, Dakota.

"You were daydreaming again Nyk," he says. Nyk is in the affectionate name he has pegged me with, and ever since he has come out of the arena two years ago he has never called me anything else. Dakota is one of the few reasons I stay grounded to this Earth, and don't float away with the breeze to who knows where.

"Not daydreaming Dakota," I say. "Just thinking."

He tilts his head ever so slightly to the right. "And what exactly was it that you were thinking about?"

"Nothing important Dakota," I reply. He doesn't need to know the misfortune that I deal with. I don't need to bring him down with me. Unlike most victors, he isn't corrupted and for that I admire him, and am proud to call him my friend. "Where's Nova?"

"She said she would be here at around this time, so I'm sure she'll arrive soon."

Nova is our third and final victor. She was the first from District Three to win, and I admire her. The woman has grown fairly old, heading into her early forties and she has retired from mentoring. I wish I could retire, but I can't. I have to keep mentoring until one more person from District Three is able to bring home the victors crown, and who knows how long that will take. Our victories have been…quite far apart from each other, so I fear for how long it will take us to get another victor.

Nova is like a mother to me, and Dakota is like the son I would never want to have myself. Our dynamic here is astounding and leaps and bounds ahead of how other district mentors interact. I'm proud to be a victor for my District, and I'm proud to stand up every year with my fellow mentors from my district and show the Capitol they cannot always win.

"Are you staying here tonight Dakota?" I ask quietly. He turns his head and smiles at me, before opening his mouth to respond.

"I might as well. I'm sure both of us could use the pleasant company," he says. I smile back and get up from my seat, going to get myself a glass of water as I await the arrival of Nova.

Dakota sleeps over at my home in the Victor's Village often, in the room next to mine. My house is far too large for only myself and my older sister, so it's always nice to have the extra company to fill the room. It's an added bonus to have someone there that can understand what's going on when you wake up screaming from the nightmares.

As I fill the clear glass to the brink with water, I walk back to the old antique of a table and sit down in the just as old wooden chair. I take a sip of the water and stare at the grand clank hanging on the wall of my kitchen, wondering what is taking Nova so long to arrive here.

I can hear the front door to my house open quickly, and then shut as quickly as it opened. I know it is Nova because only my fellow victors, my sister, and I have keys to my house. I can tell by the length of time it takes her to get to the kitchen that she probably hung her coat and hat up on my coat rack, and then took her shoes off before making her way here.

"Sorry, I was caught up with Devon," Nova says as she strides over to one of the remaining two chairs at the table. Devon is Nova's only son, and the only one she plans on having since she knows the chances of him getting reaped are very high.

"It's fine," says Dakota and both him and I smile at Nova. We recognize that Nova has a lot on her plate and I understand that she can't be here on time.

"Now for the matter at hand," says Nova. She pulls out a folder from the bag that she has brought in, and places the vanilla colored folder on the table in between the three of us. She carefully opens it up with her tiny hands, and takes out many papers and hands some to Dakota and then to myself. "These are trends in the arenas that I have discovered. I managed to write all of this down and keep it safe in my house away from the prying eyes of people that come over to inspect our houses every so often. If the Gamemakers continue with the current trends and we can identify the trend, then maybe we can give our tributes that much more of an advantage going into the arena."

I look through the papers that she has handed Dakota and I and I'm in awe at how much information she has managed to put on these papers. Everything ranging from temperature changes to how thick the soil was. It's amazing that Nova could even remember half of this stuff.

"Maybe this year, with this new found information, we can finally bring someone home," Dakota says. He has a slightly hopeful look in his eyes now, and I'm glad he has some form of hope.

After all, hope is the only thing stronger than fear.

It never hurts to have hope. I always had hope in my games. Even as I stared helpless with my fourteen year old eyes as my brother was ripped to shreds in front of me in the arena…

* * *

"_And I will try to love you; It's not like I'm above you."_

* * *

**A/N: **So that was the second part of the prologue! This was the writing of me, Acereader55, so I really hope you liked it! Now let's get down to business.

A quick big thank you to Olive for letting Fin and I use her format!

This song has an artist that every chapter, there will be a chapter named after a song and inside the chapter, lyrics will be posted that we feel fits the chapter.

_Artist: _**Bastille.**

_Song: _**Haunt.**

Fin and I have selected the twenty four tributes that we would like to be having in this story. It was very hard to choose the tributes as a lot of them were very good and we could have written for them all if we were given the chance, but we can only choose twenty four to take on this journey with us. We were given fifty five brilliant submissions, but here are the twenty four that will be taking this journey with us:

District One Female: Tharia Carmine, 18, Cashmere67  
District One Male: Ralliath Ankina, 18, little miss innocent lair

District Two Female: Cascade Farlane, 16, mangesboy01  
District Two Male: Colton Channing, 18, nevergoneforever

District Three Female: Sigma Snowden, 16, nineisgood  
District Three Male: Lionel Harper, 16, DueceExMachina

District Four Female: Kaede Leomaris, 18, Chaos In Her Wake  
District Four Male: Cobalt Kelby, 18, LokiThisIsMadness

District Five Female: Penelope "Penny" Winnow, 15, katsparkle13  
District Five Male: Creighton Scyllan, 15, bobothebear

District Six Female: Amera Colette, 18, Jakey121  
District Six Male: Jordan Levine, 16, .Real

District Seven Female: Alivia Mercado, 15, District11-Olive  
District Seven Male: Nico Delvin, 14, hey-Finn

District Eight Female: Aedre Moidart, 16, TheLunarLioness  
District Eight Male: Fuller Cambric, 15, TallTalesInk

District Nine Female: Crescent Avior, 15, Remus98  
District Nine Male: Mycroft Koup, 16, littletimmy223

District Ten Female: Ingrid Nelson, 15, Pike and Olive's Adventures  
District Ten Male: Duncan Harris, 18, munamana

District Eleven Female: Eden Admont, 17, walk off the moon  
District Eleven Male: Jericho Haverfield, 17, jacob1106

District Twelve Female: Acelynn Keldite, 13, aranwen  
District Twelve Male: Teagan Riley, 18, Burning Stars

A couple of tributes had their ages changed up or down a year, and we did have to move some tributes around from their preferred district. We intend to PM everyone fully explaining our reasoning behind some of the changes we made.

A big thank you to the people that submitted these wonderful tributes! These tributes will all be the reasons why this story will be fun to write and, hopefully, fun to read.

As for the people who didn't get into the story, I apologize sincerely. There was some stiff competition, and we chose these tributes based on what we thought we make this story the best. That doesn't mean your tributes were bad, they just didn't work with Fin and I and our plans for the story. We plan to PM both the people who made and it and those who didn't make it explaining our choices and other information.

The blog is now up with the profiles of all our lovely tributes. At the end of every chapter, a question (or maybe even two if we're feeling a little wild) will be asked at the end of the chapter so Fin and I can get a grasp on what you guys are really thinking.

**Questions:**

_What did you think of the District Three Mentors?_

_Any early favorites based on the blog posts? Any tributes you don't like from the blog posts?_

The next chapter after this will be the Reaping Chapter! It will not be in the POV of the tributes just yet. That will be the chapter after the reapings. We hope to update the Reapings Chapter within a week's time.

For now, thanks for reading this chapter and don't forget to drop by a review!

-Ace and Fin


	3. Of The Night

_"This is the rhythm of the night, the night, the night…"_

* * *

**Jeffra Leole  
****District One Mentor  
****Victor of the 22****nd**** Annual Hunger Games**

* * *

"So who were the lucky two you and the almighty Nevada selected?" I ask Jayce, attempting to hide the bitterness in my voice. It was stupid really. So what Nevada chose to take Jayce to select the tributes over me? Big deal. Except it was a big deal; a big deal to me.

"I didn't have much of a choice. Nevada made her choice, and there was little I could say to change it." That surprised me. Nevada usually took in my opinion, no matter how much she pretended not to.

"And what did she decide?"

"As if I could remember the names Jeffra. All I know is the boy was freckled and had impeccable aim. The girl was rather average, nothing sticking out to me about her except her unorthodox appearance." I scowl at Jayce. What a rookie mistake! The only way to bring a tribute home was to learn everything we could about said tribute, and he hasn't even bothered to learn their names. But before I can scold him for it, our escort takes to the stage, and everyone in the square is silenced.

"Hello District One," Kenisha Morarity, District One's escort since the 30th Games, says. I don't, and never will like her. Why? Well it could be the fact that she acts dumb because she thinks it's cute, or it could be the fact that she has slept with half the male population of District One, but most likely it's that she often drinks one too many cocktails when she's supposed to be getting our tributes sponsors, and usually makes a fool out of us.

"Who is excited for this year's games?" Even her voice is annoying! Still, the crowd hoots and hollers, everyone still pumped up about our victory last year.

"Well let's waste no time in selecting out next victor!" She beams as the crowd roars back, quickly tip toeing over to the female bowl, and selecting a slip.

"Glowe Ca-"

"I volunteer!" A confident female voice interrupts. All eyes turn to the 18 year old section as a dark-haired, tan girl emerges, pushing past people to get the stage.

Tharia Carmine. I don't even have to hear her name before I recognize the girl. She's always stuck out in District One because of her appearance, but she stuck out even more in the training centre.

"You're gorgeous!" Kenisha squeals, wrapping the tribute in a quick hug. "Ready to meet your partner?"

"I don't need a partner, but sure why not chose the boy who is going to have to die?" Tharia smirks, looking directly at the back of the male section.

"Well, how about-"

"I volunteer!" Kenisha frowns this time, obviously not liking being cut off before she could even say the name. The boy appears in front of the stage before I could even pinpoint who had yelled, the excited crowd swarming the stage, paying no attention to their assigned areas.

"And your name is?"

"Ralliath Ankina, and I'm here to show this fine lady just how much she needs me," Ralliath jokes, getting a loud snort out of Tharia.

"He's a bloodbath," Tharia comments, eyeing Ralliath from head to toe.

"Not much a fan of blood, but I'll get into any bath you're in."

"District One, your tributes!" Kenisha yells to the crowd, stepping between the two and grabbing a hand each, raising them as if they had already won.

Of course with me as their mentor, one of them already has won.

"Who do you want?" Jayce asks as we stand up to enter the Justice Building behind our tributes.

"Tharia, she's actually taking this seriously."

"Oh come on, Ralliath was just trying to lighten the mood!"

"I'm glad you think so, because he's your first tribute," I smile, brushing past him to keep in toe with my tribute.

"My first victor you mean," Jayce yells back at me, before following.

"Sure sure, I'll be back in a few minutes, ok?" I ask, but really he doesn't have a choice.

"Where are you going? We have to go the Capitol!"

"We have an hour Jayce, calm down. I just have to say goodbye to someone." The smirk that appears on his face tells me he knows exactly who I'm going to see.

"Tell Cruz I say hi," he winks.

"It's not like that Jayce, and you know it."

"Whatever Jeffra. Be back here in ten. We still have to get to the train station."

Nodding, I turn around and make my way to the back door. Jayce is wrong, the relationship between me and Cruz is strictly friends. He helps keep me grounded, and boy do I need that.

* * *

**Sifton Rivera  
****District Two Mentor  
****Victor of the 24****th**** Annual Hunger Games**

* * *

Another year, another games, two more tributes volunteering to ruin their lives.

That's right, ruin. The life of a victor isn't all it cracks out to be, and all I think about every minute of everyday is how much I wish that I had realized that before I had volunteered. The signs were obvious: none of our victors looked enthusiastic, and they all had changed so much since their games. But naive, little 18 year old me didn't think about that. I thought of one thing, and one thing only: being recognized. All I wanted was for people to know my name, and now they did. I should be happy, no? I'm not, and I never will be.

"Sifton?" The voice breaks me out of my trance, and I look over into Jasmine's dark eyes.

"What?" I stutter, quickly avoiding eye contact.

"Your eyes are redder then my dress," she hisses.

"I was crying this morning," I quickly lie.

"Give it up Sifton, I thought you were done with that shit!" Oh, that's right. I had told her I would stop with the drugs, but obviously I didn't mean it. Ten years of Games was enough to warrant my occasional weed smoking.

"I lied," I say simply, "now shouldn't you be paying attention to the reaping?" I ask, turning her attention to where the escort goes on about how great the Capitol is.

"I know who is volunteering," she says, continuing her frowning at me. "Why are you doing this to yourself, Sifton? You know what happened to Lorelei…" I block her out, tired of her nagging. It's my life, what right does she have to boss me around?

A woman with bright purple hair and an extremely pale face catches my attention. She's obviously from the Capitol, but what confuses me is the fact that she's not standing by the other Capitol people. She's standing in the midst of the crowd of parents, as if she belonged there.

"Sifton!" I startle, turning back to where Jasmine sits, face burning red.

"Yes?"

"Are you listening to me?"

"No," I deadpan. She huffs, apparently giving up because she turns her attention back to where the escort stands, hand in the giant glass bowl. Oh yay, the fun part.

"Canora Seitz!" The man booms into the crowd. Of course before the selected tribute can even move, another voice is yelling they volunteer, and my eyes instantly go to a blonde-haired girl jogging to the stage.

Jasmine snorts when she sees the girl, obviously not happy.

"What's wrong?"

"That girl is not who was supposed to volunteer!" If looks could kill, Jasmine would have killed this blonde girl a long time ago.

"Your name, dear?" The escort asks, handing the mic over to our newest tribute.

"Cascade Farlane," she says simply, looking almost anxious.

"And why did you volunteer?" The escort questions.

"I needed too."

"Why?"

"That's none of your business. Now how about you get back to your job?" Cascade says. I crack a smile. This girl has got a mouth on her.

"What are you smiling about druggy?" Jasmine spits.

"I like her."

"Don't get too attached Sifton." Obviously not, what does she think I am? A rookie? I've been doing this for longer than she has!

"On to the boys," the escort mutters, trying his best to smile when it's clear as day Cascade has pissed him off.

"Samuel Dae!" Again the tribute doesn't even have to move before a volunteer is taking his place.

"At least one of our tributes showed up," Jasmine whispers, nodding approvingly as the blonde-haired boy mounts the stage.

"Colton Channing," the boy says before the escort even asks.

"And what's your reason for volunteering?"

"It's what all the cool kids are doing," the words suggest he's joking but his voice is as serious as ever. What was with this kid? He needed to lighten up. Maybe I should bring him some of my stash for the train ride. I'm sure Cascade would be down.

"Who do you want?" I stare, confused at the question.

"As your tribute," Jasmine continues when I don't answer.

"Oh, um, I like Ca-"

"I think I'll take Cascade."

"What? I thought you didn't like her?"

"I'm curious," she smiles, before standing up and fluffing her bright red dress before heading towards the Justice Building. I suppose that's what I should do too, but I do have an hour...

I'm on feet before I even realize it, heading towards the nearest dark corner. This will be my tenth year as mentor, and it will also be my tenth year with the drugs. And if Jasmine thinks I'm going to stop now, or ever, she's got another thing coming.

* * *

**Dakota Florence  
****District Three Mentor  
****Victor of the 33****rd**** Annual Hunger Games**

* * *

The smog filled skies of my home do nothing to lighten the mood of the day.

_Reaping Day._

The very two words that strike fear into every outer district kid's being. Two words can shatter someone's spirit with the snap of someone's fingers. The very two words that shattered my own spirit, two years ago.

I never would have thought that I would be reaped. I didn't think that it could happen to someone I knew, let alone happen to myself. Getting reaped changed my life, and I'm lucky I had Nykon and Nova to guide me through the Games. Without them, I wouldn't be standing here, on stage today.

Being the most recent victor of District Three, I sit on the right most side of the line of victors, closest to the middle of the stage. Directly to my left is Nykon, who's hand I am currently holding. I was told by Nykon that her and Nova always held hands when it was just the two of them to show unity among the victors, to show our district that we were united as one and that we would work hard to bring someone back home.

As I sit on stage and hold hands with Nykon, I stare out into the crowd and look at the sunken faces of the District Three citizens. It's hard to believe that only two years ago, I was one of them. I was one of the scared children that were frightened of this very day. I still am frightened to some extent, wondering if I will be able to bring someone home this year. After last year's terrible failure with both of our tributes dying in the Bloodbath, I don't want a repeat.

Our Mayor makes his way out to the middle of the stage and begins to read the Treaty of Treason. After listening to that same speech for years on end, I have learned to tune it out quite well. Instead, I take this opportunity to look over at Nykon and Nova and see how they're holding up.

Nova's aging face is set in stone with no emotion crossing over her features what so ever. I'm sure when her son becomes of reaping age she will be worried sick, but for now she has set her face to showing no emotions, and I think it's her way of coping with everything going on. She no longer has to mentor, but she still feels out pain. Still has her own terrifying nightmares, and still has the horror of watching two children from her own district dying every year.

Nykon has a sad smile on her face as she stares off into the crowd. The poor lady is trying to stay strong for her district, but it isn't turning out the way I think she was hoping for. I wish I could cheer her up some way, but there's nothing I can say or do that will make her feel any better. It pains me to see her so upset, because she's just like my own mother. Hopefully if we bring back another victor it can make her better than how she is now.

As the Mayor ends his speech, the escort takes his place. Rosemary Falcon, our escort of 3 years now, takes the stage and immediately dives her perfectly manicured hand into the girls reaping bowl.

"Do we have a Sigma Snowden here?" Rosemary asks the crowd of depressed teenagers.

The crowd of girls in the fifteen year old section disperse like minnows in the sea when a shark comes by. They leave one girl in the middle of the crowd, presumably Sigma, standing there. She closes her eyes and starts to shake slightly, before her knees buckle and she falls to the floor in a heap. I can hear the thump she makes as she hits the floor all the way from back here. The Peacekeepers are eventually forced to make their way over to her, and she is picked up by a Peacekeeper from each of her arms. She is dragged to the stage and all eyes are on her, some giving her pitying looks while others give her looks of disgust that she has to be dragged up by the Peacekeepers. I feel bad for her, but she needs to learn to overcome things if she wants a shot at winning.

"Well, now that is over with we shall move onto the boys," Rosemary says. Her heels click over to the next bowl and she digs her hand down into it, shuffling a few slips around on the bottom before letting her slender hands pick a slip. She walks back slowly to the center of the stage and announces the name of the male tribute, the one I'll be mentoring. "Xenon Zanders, please come on down."

A timid fourteen year old immediately sticks out from the crowd in his section, and he shakily makes his way out of the pen he was in. Before he can get halfway to the stage, something makes everyone's heads turn towards the sixteen year old section.

"I, Lionel Harper, volunteer as the male tribute."

As he makes his way to the stage, I can't help but stare at him with my mouth open. I'm shocked someone volunteered for this, and I wonder why he did. Maybe with this volunteer District Three could have a shot this year, and maybe I can bring home my first tribute ever. Maybe we might have a chance here.

For the first time in months, I smile. A genuine smile. I smile as Rosemary holds up the hands of Sigma and Lionel and announces them as the tributes of District Three.

* * *

**Delta Nordaine  
****District Four Mentor  
****Victor of the 21****st**** Annual Hunger Games**

* * *

The waves lap against the sand next to the Town Square. The waves provide a calming sense to all of the citizens here as we practically live in the water.

It was a pleasant surprise to have the water in my own arena. Being on a boat all of my life, I think the Gamemakers specifically designed the arena for me. Who am I kidding, of course they did! Who wouldn't want to see me win, right?

As I walk out from behind the stage with the rest of my fellow victors, I remind myself to flash my pearly white smile, because the Capitol loves to see me smile. We walk in a single file line, all our steps in order until we reach our designated chairs. I am the second closest to the center of the stage, while Byron is to my right and Kinzy is to my left. Ever since this district became a career district, everyone in the reaping pens look more relaxed, as if they know they have nothing to worry about since someone will always volunteer.

It's nice that the kids never have to worry. It's an added bonus that the reason they don't have to worry is because the more deserving children of the district get to have their shot at stardom. Unfortunately, that stardom hasn't lasted long for most of my tributes, seeing as I have been mentoring for twelve years and haven't brought home a single victor yet. Oh well, that's because they aren't as good or as lovely as me.

As the mayor comes out from behind the stage, I drift off into thoughts about the ocean and the beach. I've always loved how the waves lap onto the beach and make an extravagant crashing sound. The way the foam bubbles up and dissipates onto the sand, dampening the dry grains on the beach. I'm so grateful for living here, and I'm grateful that the trainers gave me the opportunity to show Panem what I'm capable of. And of course, I'm sure that the Capitol is grateful to have seen me because I was the fan favorite the whole time throughout the Games and who wouldn't love to see my smiling face?

When the Mayor finishes his boring speech, our escort comes onto the stage. He's an idiot and an airhead, and that is only amplified by what he is wearing. He sports a dark blue bathing suit with a matching shirt, as well as a life saver vest that has been dyed to match his clothing attire. He wears black sandals and has white lines across his face, presumably sunscreen.

"Good afternoon District Four!" he screams. He proceeds to adjust the life vest on his chest before moving on. "Who's ready to meet your tributes for the 35th Annual Hunger Games?!" Cheers erupt from the front of the pens, as well as some cheers from the people that aren't in the pens. Some people must be very pro-Capitol here, and that doesn't bother me one bit.

"Let's start with the ladies," he says with a sickeningly sweet smile. I adjust my mini skirt slightly to give the Capitol a little more of a show because why not? What's life if you aren't having a grand ole time. "Marina Vaudin!"

A timid and small girl with glasses comes out of the fifteen year old section, but she doesn't look the least bit worried. She knows what's coming.

"I volunteer!"

The two famous words come spilling out from the 18-year old section, and I squint to see who it is. A fairly tall girl comes strolling out from her section, and I can see a winner in her. She has a flowing aqua skirt accompanied with a nice sky blue belt and a matching headband. She walks confidently up to the stage, and carefully mounts the steps. When she reaches the center of the stage, she speaks her name confidently and calmly.

"Kaede Leomaris, at your service." She flashes a small smirk at the camera, and keeps her head locked in place, seemingly staring off into nothing. She seems like a good contender, and hopefully she'll have the pleasure of working with me. With enough effort and work, we can make her into a _victor._

"Wonderful, absolutely wonderful," the babbling idiot says into the microphone. "Now hopefully we have the same luck with the boys!" His sandals make an annoying clicking sound as he makes his way over to the other reaping bowl, and quickly picks out a slip, probably just wanting to see the volunteer come forward.

"Crash Vaylor."

Before the reaped tribute even has a chance of stepping forward to claim their spot, the two expected words come falling out of the 18-year old section once again.

"I volunteer." This time, a tall and rather tan young man steps out of his section. He takes long and calculated strides towards the steps that will lead him to his place on the stage. He strides past us victors on the stage and doesn't so much as glance at us as he takes his place next to the escort. I'm a little offended that he didn't look at me, I mean who wouldn't want to take a look at all this?

"My name is Cobalt Kelby, and I volunteer for the honor of going into the Hunger Games." He maintains his calm and composed demeanor as he speaks into the microphone, and as our escort holds up their hands I think that we have a victor here in District Four this year.

They just won't be as good of a victor as me.

* * *

**Evanna Becket  
****District Five Mentor  
****Victor of the 6****th**** Annual Hunger Games**

* * *

"And she was gorgeous, with beautiful, perfect black hair and fair skin. It was the best night of my life!"

"What was her name Troy?"

"Oh, uh, it was Bria. No wait that was last week. Um, Cara? No..." I chuckle, Troy Ritter everyone, victor of the 29th Hunger Games and District Five's celebrity man whore.

"Well I'm glad you had a fun night, but I need you to focus yourself Troy. I'd like to bring home another victor this year."

"Right, I got this!"

"Are you ready to take the stage? You're going to have to stay quiet for a while. Can you do that for me?" Troy frowns, and I chuckle, taking his hand. We have a weird relationship, me and Troy. It's mother and son like for sure. I treat him as if he was a child, and he treats me like the fragile old lady I am becoming. We both know each others joking, but it's nice to have someone to joke with. It's hard being a victor, but it was a lot harder before Troy won. No one understood what I was going through, and most people walked on egg shells around me, always careful not to set me off as if I was some sort of ticking time bomb. But Troy, he knows what it's like and that's a bond that can never be severed.

"Would you like me grab your cane?" Troy jokes, squeezing my hand as we head on stage.

The audience claps as we take the stage, and I smile down at them. District Five isn't a bad place to live if it wasn't for the Games, the people are nice, and the Capitol leaves us relatively alone, as long as we supply the power they require.

"Evanna Becket, victor of the Sixth Annual Hunger Games and Troy Ritter, victor of the 29th Annual Hunger Games," the mayor says to the crowd, motioning for us to take out seats. That's right, in 34 years of games, District Five has had a total of two victors and the gap between mine and Troy's victory is over 20 years. Not exactly the best record, but making power doesn't exactly provide a whole lot of skills needed to fight to the death. It was by complete chance both me and Troy won. He hid out until there was only a few left, and managed to kill his final opponent. I joined a large alliance that dominated, even though I didn't do much, and in the end I was the only one willing to turn on our alliance. Something to this day I regret.

"I'd like to welcome to the stage, Marida Shly!" I watch as the lanky woman makes her way towards the microphone. District Five is lucky to have an escort such as Marida. She's calm and kind, and actually wants to help her tributes, unlike the rest of the escorts who are in it for the fame.

"Let's not waste time, and jump right into it with the female!" Her shiny black heels click as she slowly walks towards the girls bowl, and every female in the square takes a collective breath in.

"Penelope Winnow." There's a moment of silence as everyone searches the crowd for the unlucky tribute. The crowd separates as the 15 year old girl emerges from her place. Penelope as it seems, is a rather average looking girl. With light brown hair that has a slight reddish tinge to it and a plain looking face. She has a small, weak looking body, and she wears a shocked expression.

I watch as she climbed the steps, nervously looking around, and it was then that I notice it. She walks with a slight limp in her left foot. Poor girl, she won't make it far. I feel guilty thinking it, but I know it's true.

"You're gorgeous dear, truly," Marida smiles, getting an appreciative smile from Penelope before she moves onto the boys bowl.

"Creighton Scyllan," Marida reads aloud, scanning the crowd for the unlucky boy. The boy, Creighton, emerges from the 15 year old section. He's a rather plain looking kid, with spiked brown hair and an average face. His face is expressionless, but his eyes scan the crowd, as if he's looking for someone.

"There you have it folks! Your tributes, Penelope Winnow and Creighton Scyllan!" Marida chimes, after Creighton has climbed the stage.

"I guess District Five isn't getting another victor this year." I look up at Troy, and see him sat with a disappointed look on his face.

"I guess not."

* * *

**Dax Herring  
****District Six Mentor  
****Victor of the 32****nd**** Annual Hunger Games**

* * *

"Are you ok Dax?" Kennedy asks, placing her hand on my shoulder.

"Yes, fine. Just a little worried about today," I admit.

"It's going to be fine. Hopefully we get a pair of strong tributes so we can have another victor." Kennedy is a kind girl, sometimes too kind, always putting others before herself. It's a wonder she even won. But she did, and she took three lives in the process. 'Yes but you took five,' my conscious reminds me, and the guilt comes back like a crashing wave. My legs feel weak, and my mind feels fuzzy as I suddenly almost topple over. But of course, Kennedy is there to catch me.

"Are you ok Dax? Maybe we should request Jethro comes with me this year?" she says worriedly.

"No, I'm fine. I just missed breakfast this morning," I lie, standing back up and heading towards the door that leads on stage.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes Kennedy, I'm not a baby!" I snap, and instantly I regret it.

"I'm sorry," I plead. "Just a little on edge."

"It's fine," she mutters, but I can tell it's not.

"Why don't we get this over with?" I suggest, reaching out to take her hand. But instead of taking it, she walks right past me onto the stage, a hurt look in her eyes. I really don't get how that girl won, but I remember her games like they were yesterday. Mostly because they were the games before mine, and the first games I had been allowed to watch.

Turning around, I walk on stage as the crowd applauds my arrival. I've always felt guilty about that. Why should they clap for me? What did I do that was so great? I killed for my life, but is that really applause worthy? I didn't even do it purposely. I never thought I'd win. What chance did a 14 year old District Six boy really have? It was by mere accident I fed those poisonous berries to my allies, and mere accident that I electrocuted the pair from One. The only kill I actually meant was in the finale, when I stabbed the District Five girl.

"Welcome, welcome, District Six to the 35th Annual Hunger Games!" The escort, whose name is currently slipping my mind, addresses the crowd. I hate this part. I can handle watching the kids die, but it's the realizations and horror on their face when their name is called. It's that look of 'oh shit I'm going to die' that gets me, because I know there's little I can do to help. Sure I can get them sponsors, and tell them everything I know, but like I said it was pure luck I survived my games and I can't stop another tributes from stabbing them once they reach the games.

"Amera Colette!" I didn't even hear the rest of her speech, before she's calling a name and an 18 year old is walking towards the stage. I snort. Once again I'm younger than our tribute. Amera looks competent; emotionless as she walks to the stage. She's pretty, I won't deny that, with her blonde hair and slim body, but I'm not here to judge her looks. I'm here to help her win, and judging by first impressions she stands a shot.

"What a beautiful young lady!" The escort comments as Amera reaches the stage.

"Thank you. So are you," she says, smiling, but somehow retaining that emotionless look.

"The boys!" I continue to study Amera as the escort approaches the other bowl, ready to select the male. The girl remains emotionless, staring off in the distance as if she couldn't be bothered to be here. She's good.

"Jordan Levine!" It doesn't take him long to emerge from the crowd, and make his way to the stage. Jordan isn't nearly as good at keeping it together, and even though he's trying to put on a brave face, the worry and fear is obvious.

"District Six, your wonderful tributes!" The escort takes a hand of each of them, and raises it to the sky before leading them through the door and into the justice building.

"You can have her," I say, as a sort of apology to Kennedy for snapping on her. She nods, slightly smiling before too getting up and disappearing through the doors. I've really pissed her off, and that's the last thing I wanted to do. I'm sorry Kennedy, I'm sorry I can't cope, and I'm sorry I take it out on you.

I'm _sorry._

* * *

**Sida McGowan  
****District Seven Mentor  
****Victor of the 26****th**** Annual Hunger Games**

* * *

I _hate _reaping day.

Being forced to step out of the shadows of my home and come into the light of the depression that this district possesses. The gloominess of the people here mixed in with my general non-impressive personality intensifies the sour mood in the air. I just want these next weeks to be over so I can crawl back into the shack that I call a home.

Most people think that I'm this way because I drink. Some speculate it's because I do drugs. But I'm just being me. The Games didn't break me, much like my father could never break me. I've always been the dark girl in the background. The one you would never pay attention to, and I _liked_ it that way.

Getting reaped really screwed me over and now I'm forced to come out of my darkness once a year for an extended period of time to help two children that I don't even know. Most of the time I let Asher do all the work, helping out both of the tributes instead of us each taking one. I try and stay in my room in the Capitol the whole time, not wanting to infect the tributes with my less than impressive personality. But once the Games begin I have to remain, _trapped_ in that stupid mentor's chamber until both of our tributes are dead. No way to escape. No way to hide. No where to go.

I blame the Capitol for everything. Better yet, I blame the President. If it wasn't for him and his shit way of running the government, I could be living in peace and quiet in my shack of a home. Maybe one day someone can stand up to him, change things back to the way they were before the wars began. I'm certainly not the person to stand up, but maybe one day someone will have the guts to do so and I'll support them fully.

Winter Pont, our _lovely_ escort shuffles her feet that are crammed into five-inch high heels towards the microphone at the center of the stage.

"Welcome District Seven to the Annual Reapings!" Her voice is like nails on a chalkboard to me, and I have to use all of the restraint in my body not to cover my ears with my calloused hands. "Are you ready to meet your tributes? Let's hope they can reach victor status and become the next victor after the lovely Sida McGowan!"

All eyes turn towards me as she points her hand in my direction. I stare out into the crowd with the harshest glare that I can manage, and keep my hands firmly at my side in order to prevent me from doing something to Winter for bringing attention to me. A cough from Asher next to me brings Winter back to Earth and she begins to sashay her way over to the female's reaping bowl. As she dips her pale white hand into the bowl, I can see all the girls that are of reaping age make a silent prayer to whatever high power is out there that they won't be reaped.

"Alivia Mercado, please make your way towards the stage dear."

"No! No, no, no, no, no! Not me, not me, it can't be me. Please somebody help. Please somebody help me!" The cries don't stop there. She begins to mercilessly grab people and shake them, asking them to help her and volunteer for her. She wails uncontrollably and starts to shake all over. It appears she can't even control her limbs anymore as she begins to flail them around and even hit some people. Before she can run away, peacekeepers come towards her and pick her up like a rag doll. They drag her to the stage, all the while she continues her useless moaning and bawling about how someone should take her place and that she doesn't deserve this. Face it kid, nobody deserves it. You're just unlucky enough to have been chosen.

"Well, now that was certainly interesting!" Winter screeches as Alivia finally settles down. "Let's see if we can have as much fun with the boys!"

She repeats the process that she did with the girls, and in no time is back to the microphone to announce the male's name that has been condemned to the Games.

"Oh what an adorable name! Nico Devlin please come to the stage." The sea of fourteen year olds part as the reaped child is left standing in the middle. He begins to shake and tremble a little bit, and as he walks down the center aisle towards the stage I can see silent tears stream down his pale cheeks. He stumbles a few times getting up the stairs, almost falling flat on his face once. Seems like this year we have a very slim shot of getting a tribute out alive.

As Winter introduces the tributes to District Seven one last time, Asher turns towards me and asks me the same question he has for the past several years, even though it's a pointless one to ask.

"Which one do you want Sida?"

"Doesn't matter to me Asher, take your pick."

Then again, nothing ever matters to me. All that matters is that in a few weeks time I can go back to my shack and sit in the quiet shadows of my depressing life.

* * *

**Chance Whittaker  
****District Eight Mentor  
****Victor of the 12****th**** Annual Hunger Games**

* * *

_One._

Out of all the tributes I've been mentoring over the years, I've only been able to bring home one tribute. I'm a failure at this mentoring thing, but maybe Velvet can help me. Maybe Velvet is the missing piece to the puzzle that can help me bring home someone.

Even though we have been mentoring together for a few years, maybe now that she's found someone to be with there is a new passion for her to bring someone home. I can only hope she's willing to do everything she can to bring someone home.

When I look at Velvet, I don't see the insane girl that everyone saw in the arena. I see a broken girl, someone that is a shell of what they used to be. The Games broke Velvet. The only reason she is somewhat competent now is because she got some counseling for her problems, and because she now found someone that loves her for who she is.

"Do you want to choose who you're mentoring before hand so there's no bias based on who's reaped?" Velvet asks me. She asks me this every year and every year I tell her the same answer.

"I think that's a fantastic idea Vel," I say. "Do you want the male or the female?"

"I'll take the female," she says. I nod in contentment and let her have what she wants. I don't mind giving her what she wants because she hasn't had the easiest road in life. Neither have I, but she's had it even rougher. I just want her to feel at home, and feel like she's living a somewhat normal and peaceful life. She's like my little sister, and I just want her to be comfortable with the life she's living.

I grab Vel's hand and give it a light squeeze, and give her a soft smile as District Eight's escort, Valentina, comes on stage. She waltzes her way over to the males bowl and quickly draws a slip out of the bowl. Looks like she wants to get this over with quickly, and for that I am truly grateful.

"Will Fuller Cambric please come to the stage." The cluster of fifteen year old guys immediately breaks apart, isolating one person, presumably Fuller Cambric. I can see his fists clenching, probably in a vain attempt to calm himself down. He begins to take slow steps towards the center aisle, and then once he makes it there he takes longer strides towards the steps that will lead him to his doom. I can see he is visibly trying to hold back tears, just as I was when I was reaped. Maybe I'll have a chance at bringing him home this year.

"Wonderful," Valentina says. She couldn't have sounded more bored if she tried. Before I can manage to whisper words of encouragement to Vel about how she'll probably get such a fantastic tributes, Valentina is already at the microphone with the female slip in her hand.

"Aedre Moidart please come to the stage." This time, the females don't spread out that quickly so it is hard to isolate the reaped tribute. But, Aedre finally forces her way out of the pen that she was in and walks to the center aisle. She seems to be very calm for just being reaped to the Hunger Games, and I suppose her being calm in tense situations will come in handy for when she's in the Games.

After Valentina introduces them one last time, Velvet turns towards me and smiles.

"I think we finally have a chance at bringing someone home Chance! I think we can do it!"

Hopefully with a little luck, Velvet's prediction could become reality.

* * *

**Cherry Sindleton  
****District Nine Mentor  
****Victor of the 25****th**** Annual Hunger Games**

* * *

I _hate_ this damned district.

This is the district that voted me to get sent off to die. The district that didn't want me. The district that would rather see me die out of any other child in this district. The district that practically banished me.

If only I could have seen the look on their faces when I killed the girl from District One to become the victor. I can only imagine how upset they were that I managed to get home out of all the other people. When will they learn that I'm not some piece of trash that can be thrown away? I'm not a speck of dirt that can just be blown away. I'm Cherry Sindleton, and I'm not going anywhere now that I'm a victor.

The only person I can somewhat stand in this hellhole is Maybelle, my fellow District Nine Victor and my fellow mentoring partner. She didn't give up on me like most of my district had, and she actually helped me come home. She didn't leave me to die like the District must have wanted her to, no. She actually helped me. And for that I'm eternally grateful. I try and spare her my brash attitude, but it gets hard sometimes. Especially on a day like this, when I'm forced to face the district that sent me to my death.

"It's going to be over soon Cherry," Maybelle whispers to me. "Just keep staring forward and don't say anything. We don't want to make a scene here."

"Speak for yourself Maybelle," I spit back. I try, I really do. I don't want to be rude or brash towards Maybelle, but on this day I can't help it. This stage brings back unwanted memories, and staring back at the people that practically signed my death certificate doesn't exactly help my already boiling blood.

"You only have to get through a couple of more minutes and then we are out of here," she says. Her attempts to make me calm down and stop glaring daggers at the crowd fall onto deaf ears, as I just want to scream at the top of my lungs about how much this district makes me hate my life and how I want to kill the majority of this population.

"A couple of minutes on this stage seems like an eternity," I whisper back to her. Nothing she can say or do will lessen the amount of anger that I posses while sitting on this stage.

Maybelle is a gentle old women, and an extraordinary women at that. Her victory tale is somewhat of a lesser-known one, seeing as she was one of the first victors and nothing terribly exciting happened in her Games. She's started to age with time, and I'm worried that eventually she's not going to be in the condition to mentor with me, and leaving me alone with two kids that are from this District probably isn't the best thing to do. I just hope we can bring someone home and then maybe they can do this taxing mentoring stuff on their own, leaving me and Maybelle to a quiet and secluded life in the Victor's Village.

"See, here comes Mercutio now Cherry," Maybelle points out. "It won't be that much longer until we can get onto the train.

At the site of Mercutio, I almost vomit. He's been with us since before I was chosen to go into the Games, and every year I almost barf at the sight of him just knowing that he was the one that read off my name, letting everyone know that I was chosen to go die by my own people.

"Good morning District Nine! It's time to find out who's coming with me and your lovely mentors to the Capitol!" With that little speech, he begins to quickly walk to the females bowl, and he digs his hand way down to the bottom of the bowl. He eventually plucks one from the bottom and moves himself back to the center of the stage to the microphone.

"Oh what a beautiful name! Crescent Avior, please come to the stage." A small scuffle in the fifteen year old section takes place, and I can see a fairly petite blonde girl make her way out of the section with a stern look on her face. The scowl quickly disappears as she begins to walk towards the stage, and she begins to move her skirt around a little and smile and wink at the cameras around the stage. She's really playing up the crowd, and the Capitol will love her for it. Smart girl.

"Oh darling, you're even prettier than your name!" Mercutio coos at her. "Let's see who your district partner will be." He walks over to the male's bowl, and this time he plucks a paper slip from the very top of the reaping bowl. He gets to the microphone quickly, probably too excited to wait any longer to find out who the other tributes is for District Nine.

"Mycroft Koup, please take your place next to the beautiful Crescent!"

A ginger haired child from the sixteen year old section is immediately sectioned off by his fellow peers, and he looks panicked at first. He looks around like he's expecting someone to volunteer, but as per usual nobody ever volunteers in this district. He then seems to accept his fate, and as he walks forwards he just shrugs a few times and walks with a slight wobble, probably due to the nerves. He seems like an okay tribute, he might be able to make it some what far, with the right mentoring from Maybelle and possibly me, if I feel like helping out this time.

"District Nine, your tributes for this year's Hunger Games!"

As he lifts their hands up, I turn to Maybelle.

"So, which one do you want?" She turns to me and lets out a light laugh, reminiscent of a child laughing as they chase another child in a game of tag.

"We both know it doesn't matter, does it? I'll end up helping them both out."

Maybelle has never been more right.

* * *

**Gavan Whicker  
****District Ten Mentor  
****Victor of the 19****th**** Annual Hunger Games**

* * *

I've never felt more _alone._

Nobody expected him to die that early. Nobody expected his body to fail him like it did at that age. But it did. And now I'm all alone.

Now that Neo is gone, District Ten is one of two Districts that only have one living mentor. Myself, and Amoretta of District Twelve are tasked with helping two children by ourselves; a task that nobody should have to do alone.

This district is starting to crumble. We are all in such a broken state of mind, and we are desperate for a win. We haven't had a tribute come out of that arena since my own win, 16 years ago. After the death of Neo, this district really hit rock bottom. With only myself left to guide a tribute back home, the situation turned even greyer and most people have accepted that if their child is reaped, they're going to die.

But that's why I have the added motivation to bring someone home. I have the drive that no other mentor has. I have the ability to channel my loneliness and my depressed state of mind into mentoring these two tributes. I can change the fate of District Ten, all I have to do is try hard enough to instill every information I have about the Games into my two tributes. I want to prove to them that I can still do it, and that I can bring someone home from that damned arena.

Before the whole reaping ceremony begins, the Mayor silently slides his way over to me and gives me a quick pat on the back.

"Don't worry Gavan," he says. "I have complete confidence in you that you can restore this district to what it once was." I smile at him, a genuine smile. His words mean a lot to me, and I'm glad that at least one person believes in me.

"Thanks Mr. Mayor," I say. "I'll try my best to bring someone back, for Neo." The Mayor smiles at me one last time before walking up the back stairs of the stage and walking towards the microphone. He's going to introduce me soon, and I'm going to have to face my broken District. But I can do it.

"Please welcome your victor, Gavan Whickers!" At the mention of my own name, I begin to stride up the stairs and slide over to the lone chair on the left side of the stage, where the mentors of a district are supposed to sit. It's a little discouraging and depressing to only see one chair when there used to be two, but I can't do anything to change it until after I see my tributes this year.

The Mayor reads the Treaty of Treason and I zone out. I like the Mayor, I really do, but I can't help but ignore what he's saying as I stare out into the District. Many of them, like me, are visibly trying to drown out what the Mayor is saying because we all know what is being said. When I look into the faces of the people in the square, I only see depressed faces. Broken ones. Torn up by the fact that we will probably never get another victor again. But I want to change it all. I want to make those faces lighten up, and be overjoyed when I bring home a victor this year.

When the Mayor finishes reading the Treaty of Treason, our escort Rosalina goes up to center stage to take over the rest of the ceremony.

"Welcome District Ten to this year's reaping!" Her sickly high pitched voice makes my ears hurt, but I can't cover them up. I have to look professional since I am the only living victor of this District. "Let's hope we can bring home a victor to sit next to the handsome Gavan!"

She waddles her way over to the females bowl, and plucks a pale white slip from the top. At least she doesn't do all the digging around nonsense that most of the other escorts do in order to draw out the suspense. She gets her way back to the microphone, and I prepare myself to see the tribute that will be reaped. Maybe this could be the next victor.

"Ingrid Nelson, please come up to me darling." There is a sea of fifteen year olds that part, and it makes way for me to see who Ingrid Nelson really is. She's a smaller child and she definitely seems a little underweight, but I think I can work with her. She appears to puff out her chest probably in an attempt to look stronger, and then makes her way to the stage. At least she didn't trip or cry, we get enough of those here every year. Once she is on stage next to Rosalina, she is visibly shaking which is understandable given her circumstances.

"Oh aren't you just adorable!" Rosalina coos. She pinches her cheeks once before strutting over to the males bowl and again picks a slip towards the top of the bowl.

"Duncan Harris." This time she doesn't add on a little sentence after the reaped tribute's name, which is a pleasant surprise. This time, the section right in front of me parts and I am left with a very angry looking tribute. He is rather tall and seems to be in good shape, which is a nice change from Ingrid. However, he doesn't comply with the Peacekeepers when they edge him forward, so they are forced to pick up the larger eighteen year old and practically drag him up to the stage. Yes, I think he's victor material. We just have to make him more appealing to the Capitol, and we might have a chance here.

As Rosalina makes them shake hands and introduces them to the crowd one last time, I smile. It's a genuine smile and not one that's forced. It's not forced because I know it in my gut that this year District Ten will come home with a win. Ingrid or Duncan will come home this year, I just know it.

I finally won't be alone anymore.

* * *

**Orondo Ming  
****District Eleven Mentor  
****Victor of the 18****th**** Annual Hunger Games**

* * *

The sea of people is depressing. All of them scared. Scared for their life, or a loved ones life. No one is happy on a day like to today; no one but the Capitol. I don't get how someone can find joy in this; watching children fight for their life. But, it's the world I live in, and unfortunately there's nothing I can do. I'm forced to watch year in and year out as two kids are selected to die, and there's really nothing I can do. It's such a feeling of helplessness. I can't stand it. I don't want to stand it anymore.

"Maybe this year we'll get another victor," Kor smiles reassuringly. This'll be the 35th year of the Hunger Games, and District Eleven has managed exactly two victors. We haven't exactly done the best.

"Hopefully."

"Cheer up Orondo, there's nothing you can do but try and help them." He's right, of course he's right. Kor's always right. But it doesn't make me feel better, instead making me feel even more helpless. He's right, there's nothing I can do but watch and pray that they have it in them to fight their way through. Unfortunately District Eleven doesn't get a lot of fighters because most of out citizens never have to fight. They harvest crops and sell produce, not fight or really struggle that much. We're poor, but most people have enough to at least eat. The fight isn't there in most of our citizens, and that shows in our Hunger Games records. Most of our tributes die early on, few avoiding dying at the bloodbath. I want to scream at how unfair the whole thing is. District Eleven isn't a place made of fighters like other districts; we're a rather peaceful bunch. So naturally when placed in a fight to the death against the careers, or people like kids from seven who have handled weapons their whole life, we don't do well.

"Stop dwelling." Kor always knows what I'm thinking, and how to talk me down. Without him, I would have fallen off my wagon a long while ago.

"Here we go," Kor whispers as the female escort begins her walk towards the first glass bowl.

"Eden Admont!" The name rings throughout the silent square. There's a moments hesitation before movements happens in the 17 year old section. A blonde girl appears in the aisle, her face blank of emotion. The girl walks to the stage rather quickly, taking her place and only nodding at the escort when she addresses her. It's a surprise to see the girls pale skin, compared to the usual dark skin most of our citizens posses.

"At least she's not crying," Kor nods approvingly. I also nod in recognition.

"Jericho Haverfield!" I watch as another light skin tribute walks towards the stage. The tribute, Jericho, walks calmly to the stage, his face showing fear as he scans the crowd around me.

The weird thing is as he continues to look around him, his expression goes from worry to almost happy. There's definitely the hint of a smirk on his face as he climbs the steps to the stage.

"I'll take him," I quickly say, curious as to what the sudden change in emotion was.

"Fine by me, I like her better anyways." I smile. For once District Eleven has reaped two older, stronger looking tributes. We might actually have a chance this year. And as I look at Kor, I can tell he's thinking the same thing.

"Don't get too excited yet," he warns. But I can't hide the smile. If 14 year old me can win, I have little doubt one of these 17 year olds will pull it off.

We have a chance. A chance to fight, and I promise Eden and Jericho right now, I will fight as hard as I can. District Eleven _will_ have another victor.

* * *

**Amoretta Greal  
****District Twelve Mentor  
****Victor of the 20****th**** Annual Hunger Games**

* * *

_Alone._

That's what I am. Completely and utterly alone. No one in Twelve understands what I went through; what I go through. They all see me as the crazy girl who won the games and lives by herself with no friends or family. No one tries to talk to me, or even acknowledge my existence because who wants to be seen with the crazy girl. Maybe I am crazy? Maybe I like being alone? Maybe that's why I push everyone away? Maybe I only trust myself, and deep down know that everyone else will just screw me over.

I do need someone else though. I need another victor, because I can't be alone anymore. I need someone who understands, and can help me. I need someone I can talk to, as much as I don't want to admit it, I do. I need someone.

"District Twelve, how about we get a victor this year? It's only been 15 years!" I cringe as the escort takes the stage. Nola is arrogant, ignorant, and just plain rude. No one here can stand her, and they don't have to spend weeks at a time with her. She doesn't care about the tributes, or anyone really but herself, she's just doing it for the attention. I find it amusing how she's still here, us being considered the lowest of the districts.

"Well, I'm already bored! Let's select our tributes hm?" I roll my eyes as she flicks her long, red hair over her shoulder, and struts over to the female glass bowl.

"Acelynn Keldite, if you don't look like victor material, you might as well die now." I scoff at the comment. That's lower than she normally goes. What a stupid woman, the Capitol would never allow this to continue. It's not good television, her standing up there and ridiculing the tributes before they have even been shown. She must have a death wish.

My attention is distracted as a smaller, blonde haired girl emerges from the 13 year old section. I frown at having such a young tribute, her definitely not being what I had hoped.

Acelynn walks to the stage, a smile on her face as she tries to look confident. It's smart though, because even my heart goes out to the little girl, which means sponsors will be lining up for her. Plus the girl is obviously not from the seam, which makes things a hell of a lot easier for me and her.

"I like your dress," Acelynn smiles at Nola. You would have thought Nola had just received an award from the president himself by her reaction. She over dramatically thanks Acelynn, wrapping the petite girl in a hug before planting a kiss on her cheek.

"This is what a real victor act like!" Nola grins, motioning towards Acelynn. In all my years, I have never seen Nola this happy about a tribute, especially one who obviously doesn't stand a chance. Shit, I'm not supposed to be thinking like that. District Twelve only having one victor means only one mentor for both our tributes, and I've been warned not to show favoritism.

"Let's hope we can select a boy as adorable as you!" Nola again smiles down at Acelynn as the girl continues to look rather awkward up here on stage.

"Teagan Riley!" There's a long pause before an 18 year old steps out from the crowd, a scowl plastered on his face. The boy, unlike Acelynn, is obviously from the seam, with his dark hair, grey eyes, and ragtag clothes. He walks to the stage, quite obviously not happy about being reaped. But there's something about the boy that screams confidence. Even I can tell he's confident, and I've never been good at reading people.

"Any comments?" Nola asks as Teagen takes his place beside Acelynn.

"No," Teagan grumbles, staring around at the crowd.

"Well there we have it, folks, your tributes! Wish them luck, and may the odds be ever I'm their favor!"

I don't watch as Nola escorts the tributes into the justice building. Instead I do what I do every year. I watch as people leave the square, the obvious relief on most of their faces. They weren't reaped, so naturally their happy. It makes me smile that even though two of our children are being ripped away from us, so many more get to continue their lives. It gives me hope, hope that maybe I can bring one of these two home.

I'm not supposed to show favorites, but everyone knows Acelynn isn't going far. A 13 year old, from the merchant at that. I hate to say it, but the only hope she has is sponsors, and they aren't enough to win you the game.

Teagan on the other hand, he's 18, in relatively good shape, and is from the seam. Which means he's most likely suffered, and he looked ticked off when his name was called. If I can get him to push that anger towards the other tributes, then he could stand a chance. I wouldn't be alone anymore, I'd have someone. And at this point, that's all I want.

* * *

_"This is the rhythm of my life, my life, my life…"_

* * *

**Song: **Of The Night

**Artist: **Bastille

* * *

**A/N: **So those are the reapings! I'll be the first to admit that Reapings are tedious and boring to write, so I'm glad that they are over with. Fin and I each took on 6 districts, and this was based on who had what tributes in certain districts. Fin took Districts 1, 2, 5, 6, 11, and 12 while I had 3, 4, 7, 8, 9, and 10.

I hope you liked the mentors here, and they will be getting scattered POVs throughout the story as we would like to develop the characters we have created as well as develop the characters you have sent us. Don't worry, the tributes will be the main focus of the story, but we like to flesh out our mentors too.

I do have one important thing to say. On the blog post, I had posted that Lionel was reaped, which was a mistake on my part. I don't know what I was thinking. I realized it about two days after I had originally put up the blog, and I changed it as soon as I discovered it. I apologize if that would have effected anyone's first impressions on him.

* * *

After each chapter has been completed, a question and sometimes even two will be asked. If you wouldn't mind answering them in the review that you leave it would be much appreciated by myself and Fin.

_**Questions:**_

_**Which mentor stood out to you the most?**_

_**Which tribute(s) stood out to you the most?**_

* * *

Fin and I are hoping to stick to this weekly updating schedule. We hope to update every weekend, so it won't always be on a Sunday. Sometimes it'll be a Friday or Saturday, depending on how the week goes for us and how quickly we can write the chapters, but always expect an update once a week on the weekend.

For our Capitol Chapter structure, we will be having 5 chapters with 5 POVs in each of them, and the last POV of the last chapter will be from the POV outside of one of the tributes. Each tribute will only get 1 POV before the Games, but trust me the Games will allow a lot of opportunity for Fin and myself to showcase all of the tribute's back stories, personalities, etc.

Fin and I hope you enjoyed this chapter and we will see you next time!

-Fin and Ace


	4. Team

_We live in cities, you'll never see on screen;  
Not very pretty but we sure know how to run things._

* * *

**Sigma Snowden, 16  
District Three Female**

* * *

"Come along now dears, we have a tight schedule to follow!"

Rosemary grabs my hand along with Lionel's and begins to maneuver us to the train. There are too many citizens on the sides of the path that we are walking, so Peacekeepers are tasted with holding them back from trampling Lionel or I. All I can see is a blur of whites, greys, and blacks as I move towards the silver train.

"Watch your step Sigma dear," Rosemary whispers as she helps me up the steps that enter the train. I am amazed at what I see as I open the first door to what I presume is the main room of our part of the train. I'm sure it would have been more beautiful had I been able to see the actual colors, but it is still breathtakingly stunning.

Two rows of tables line the walls of the train car, and they are filled with pastries and delicacies I could only dream of being able to afford with my parent's salary. I begin to pace next to one of the long tables of food, and proceed to stuff my face with what appears to be a fried pastry of some sort. It tastes divine in my mouth, and I just want to keep eating more and more until I simply can't eat anymore.

I look to my left and I immediately see Lionel stuffing his face as well. Rosemary is looking at us as if we were crazy, but if she was a District child she would understand how special this is for us. I dip my hand into another bowl, and I pull something hard and solid out of it. When I bring it up to my eyes, it appears to be chocolate. It's very hard to come by chocolate in my district, as usually only the factory owners or the inherently rich people can afford to buy it.

I unwrap the clear wrapper around the chocolate's smooth form, and plop the whole dainty square bar into my mouth. The sensation of flavor after I begin to chew the chocolate bar is like nothing I've ever tasted before.

"Come along now children," Rosemary coos. "There's time to taste later as we watch the Reapings Recap. But for now I must show you around your section of the train and escort you to your rooms." I follow Rosemary's clicking heels as she sashays down the hallway, and Lionel walks up next to me.

"Pretty interesting lady, wouldn't you agree Sigma?" I keep my head straight forward even as he asks me the question. Something about him gives me an uneasy feeling in my stomach. Why would he want to volunteer for this? He doesn't seem like some raging psychopath that did it for the killing, but at this point I can't rule out anything.

"Yes," I deadpan. "Very interesting."

"Lighten up a little Sigma," Lionel says. "You may not have that much longer to live, and we certainly wouldn't want you to die as an old stiff would we?" He laughs at his own supposed joke, but I cringe in response. Who does this guy think he is, joking about my life and my possible death? I am extremely grateful when Rosemary announces that we have reached our respective rooms.

"Sigma darling, your door is the one closer to the main car." She points to the room on the right side of this little hallway, and I nod in response. "Lionel, yours is the room closer to the dining cart." Once again she points to the door that Lionel's room is behind, and he thanks her without speaking a word.

"I don't know about you children, but I'm going to go freshen up a bit before the Reapings Recap!" Rosemary quickly shuffles her way out of this hallway, presumably to her room where she can change into one of her probable thousands of outfits.

"Maybe before the Reapings Recap we can head on over to my room and… have a little fun?" Lionel smirks and gives me a wink, and begins to shimmy his body in a seemingly seductive manor, but it just makes me roll my eyes in response. I slide the door open to my room and as I'm about to go in I can hear him call out. "Suit yourself! You're missing out on all of this goodness." He laughs quite loudly and I can hear him open his door and close it behind him as well.

As I turn away from the door, I finally have the opportunity to asses my living quarters for a little bit. The room I am in is larger than my living room and dining room back in District Three and it is twice the size of the bedroom that I share with Tate. Ah Tate, how I would do anything to hear her cries and screams.

Even though Tate is only a child still and can be quite annoying with her constant screams and wails, I miss her terribly already. She did keep me occupied, even if it was for the most trivial of things such as needing someone to burp her or give her some toys to play with. I would give anything to see her tiny little body and her big eyes again. I wonder how Alby is doing now, being the only one that can stay with Tate during the day now that I'm gone.

Alby was always the adoptive parent to Tate and I. With mother and father always working during the day, Alby raised me. And when Tate came along and Mother couldn't take the time off to watch her, Alby again took on the responsibility of watching over Tate. Alby had to mature very quickly, and I am going to be forever grateful to him for raising me and taking on the job of raising Tate too.

As I'm reminiscing, I manage to make my way over to the bathroom door and turn on the sink water with the diamond encrusted handles. I cup my hands and let the water fall into the crevices of my hand and when my hands are full of cold water, I splash the water on my face. The cold water cascading down my cheeks feels refreshing and it was much needed. As I'm drying my face with the cashmere towel, I hear a soft knock on the door and I shuffle my way over to the door. I slide it open and look straight into the eyes of my mentor, Nykon Adrion.

"Sorry if I'm intruding Sigma, but I just wanted to let you know that the Reapings Recap will begin in five minutes." She gives a quick soft smile before turning towards the living room car.

"Thank you Nykon," I say with a smile. "I'll be there in a second, I just want to change into something else." Nykon is a genuine person, and I really do think that we are very similar. She's quite intelligent, and I feel that we could have an intellectual discussion about any topic. I might even try to have a discussion with her tonight, just to calm my nerves down a little bit. I'm sure Nykon would enjoy her tribute actually spending some time with her and getting to know her beyond the fact that she's a victor.

I walk over to the closet that is on the side of my room near my bed, and I open it up. I can see an array of pants and shirts and skirts and dresses, no doubt of all different colors, before plucking out a pair of pants and a simple silky shirt. I quickly strip out of my Reaping clothes and slide into these comfortable Capitol clothes before making my way down the hallway and into the main car where Dakota, Nykon, and Lionel await for my arrival.

I sit myself down on a comfortable plush swivel chair that is next to Dakota, and I wait for the Reapings Recap to come up on the television screen.

"So all this does for us is it lets us see or competition a few hours earlier?" Lionel asks.

"It allows you to see their potential," Nykon answers. "Not only do you get to see who might be a good person to have as an ally, but you get to see who is a threat, who is confident, who is shy… who is weak. Facial expressions are everything, and as soon as their name is called pay close attention to what their initial reaction is. Everything after that is faking it for the cameras. You can tell a lot by a small smirk or a shocked expression." Nykon's explanation makes me smile. I knew I'd love her as a mentor, and even if we weren't in this situation I'd like to think if I had known Nykon we would have been good friends.

"Just pay close attention and you'll do fine," Dakota states. Lionel and I both nod, and as we do the television in front of us bursts to life with a few cracks and pops from the static.

I gulp. Now is the time to asses my competition, and I can't mess up at this. This isn't just getting an A on a project at school, or failing to help Alby watch Tate. This could be the difference between life and death.

"Welcome one and all to the Reapings Recap!"

* * *

**Ralliath Ankina, 18  
District One Male**

* * *

I take a deep sigh as the train door is finally closed, and the flashing of the cameras subsides. Every year I watch as our tributes push their way through the crowds of Capitol citizens that always gathered at our station, but never in a million years did I think it was so intense. I literally had to push people out of my way to get to the train, as people from all over snapped pictures and yelled out questions.

Tharia handled it much better than I did, smiling at each flash and answering as many questions as she could on her way to the train. She was obviously more equipped to deal with that many people, and I could tell by the look on her face that she knew she had already gained an edge.

Jokingly, I stick my tongue out at her, expecting at least a smile in return, but instead I get a glare before she turns her head and looks in the other direction. How on earth did she go from that happy smiling girl who was more than willing to answer any questions asked to her, to this- for lack of a better work- bitch that stands in front of me?

"Well, why don't we all go take a seat in the living room and chat before dinner?" Kenisha suggests, leading the way through one of the automatic doors. I should be more impressed by the high quality of everything on the train. I mean yes it's cool, but I couldn't be bothered. It's all the same, just fancier looking. Plus, it wasn't as if I hadn't seen half this stuff before. Advantages of living in the luxury district I guess.

Kenisha leads myself, Tharia, as well as both Jeffra and Jayce into a larger room with plenty of couches and chairs to sit on. I, being me, quickly pick a chair and sit in front of a small table, putting my feet up.

"Ralliath! Get your feet of there! It's expensive!" I grumble as Kenisha swats my feet from the table.

"Sorry," I mutter, sitting up. Tharia again smirks at me, before taking a seat herself.

The room is completely silent after that. No one making a single sound. The tension is high for a reason I'm not even sure of, but I can tell you right now I don't like it.

"So, Jayce, you're my mentor?" I prompt, trying to get a conversation going.

"Yes sir, lucky for you!" Ah, still as arrogant as ever.

"More like you're the lucky one, having me as your first tribute and all."

"I told Jeffra over here the same thing. You're going to be victor right?" I smile, happy he already thinks so highly of me, but before I can answer Tharia let's out a loud snort.

"Him, victor? Please!" She laughs, flipping her hair behind her shoulder once again. You know the judgmental, arrogant thing was tolerable at first, but it's already gotten old.

"I'd like to see you get close to me, oh mighty one," I comment, mockingly bowing my head in her direction.

"Ralliath, our lovely own Kenisha over here could take you," she spits, motioning towards our escort who sits rather awkwardly in the corner.

"No need to prove her wrong," Kenisha quickly clarifies. I can't help but laugh, the woman actually considered I'd be stupid enough as to fight her, just to prove a point?

"No need to worry Kenisha, someone's just a little grumpy today."

"Enough you two, you do remember you will be allies right?" Everyone's eyes turn to Jeffra as she speaks for the first time since we all sat down together.

"How dumb do you think we are?" Tharia immediately asks.

"I believe you to be very smart, Tharia, which is why I chose you." Tharia smirks, obviously happy that someone finally appreciates her.

"I assume you both are sticking with the careers?"

"Of course," Tharia says, and I nod in agreement.

"Wonderful. Now, this bickering between you two must stop now. The others will notice it, and they'll manipulate you. Turn you against each other. District One doesn't need that."

"I will not be manipulated, don't you worry," Tharia again almost immediately says. The girl needs to relax; she's so defensive about everything.

"But I guess dummy over here might be," Tharia adds, smirking at me. I have no idea what I did to this girl, but we have really gotten off on the wrong foot.

"Exactly what I'm talking about Tharia. Those comments are only going to hurt you," Jeffra informs.

Tharia doesn't answer, instead she turns her attention out the window to where endless rows of trees are being featured.

Surprisingly, Kenisha doesn't say a word as she sits in the corner picking at her finger nails. I would have never pegged her to be the quiet type, but I guess dealing with our mentors probably forces you to be that way.

The silence returns, setting uncomfortably over the five of us.

"Well supper should be ready soon, if anyone's interested?"

"I'm starving," I smile, ready to try this famous Capitol food. No one else says anything, but they all get up and follow as me and Kenisha exit the room.

"What's on the menu?"

"Not really sure, but I'm sure it's something yummy!" Kenisha says over her shoulder.  
After a few moments of silence, we walk through a door to a room that reveals itself to be the eating area, or dining room as most call it. My stomach grumbles as the delicious smells waft through the air.

"Everyone pick a seat." As it turns out, there wasn't much of a choice. Kenisha forced her way into the end seat, while Jeffra and Jayce quickly stole the pair of seats on one side of the table, leaving two empty chairs right beside each other. Oh good, I get to sit beside smiley.

"Shouldn't we talk about strategies or something?" I ask, attempting once again to get the conversation rolling. But I'm quickly shot down as Jeffra informs me that's for after dinner, and apparently now was the time to relax and enjoy the silence.

Silence was not something I enjoyed, at all.

The food was brought out not long after, giving me something to do instead of sitting uncomfortably.

Immediately I grabbed a piece of thick steak, smothering in it some sort of sauce, before cutting a piece and shoving it into my mouth.

The meat was good, amazing even, and so was everything else. But it still wasn't enough to distract me from the silence. Other than the occasionally scrape of a knife, or the loud chewing, the room was silent.

This was turning out to be worse than I thought.

* * *

**Nico Devlin, 14  
District Seven Male**

* * *

I want to cry, scream, and hide under my blankets for days. All I want is to breakdown, but doing that would prove me weak, and that's not something I can show right now. Not in front of Asher, not in front of Sida, and most certainly not in front of Alivia.

I like Alivia. She's a sweet girl with a great personality. I can tell already, from the few short hours we've spent together that she's not the smartest girl, but who am I to judge.

"So where about did you live? I don't remember seeing you, ever," Alivia smiles, turning the conversation her and Asher had previously been having to me.

"I lived in the average part of the district, not too poor or not too rich. What about you?"

"Poor, very poor," Alivia says, her smile not faltering.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Asher buts in.

"Not your fault!"

"What about family?"

"Only child, and wasn't close to either of my parents." Her smile starts to falter, but she quickly regains it. Poor girl. Sounds like she hasn't had the best of lives.

"What about you Nico? How's your family?"

"They were great." I sigh. Family is most certainly not something I want to talk about. I miss them. I miss them a lot, and talking about them would just make me feel worse.

I look over to where Sida is sat. She has barely spoke since we boarded the train, and every time she had it was in small portions, and was usually quite negative. She was quite the downer, and honestly I didn't like her much, but she won her games and I had to respect her.

"The reaping recaps will be starting soon! Are you ready to get your first glimpse at your competitors?" Neither Alivia nor I respond, obviously not excited about seeing the kids who will either kills us or be who we will kill. But we have to. In order for either to us to have a shot we need to know everything we can about the other tributes.

Asher leans over and grabs a small device, pressing the largest button on it and pointing it at the screen. It instantly comes to life, illuminating Varro Decksheimer's rather pale features. Varro has been around since the start of the games, and has been the one to interview every tribute each year. He also is the one who is seen the most on screen. Some one would say he's the face of the Games.

"Welcome Panem to yet another exciting year!" Varro isn't half bad, from what I can tell. He's always cheerful and is usually nice to the tributes when he's interviewing them, something I respect a lot.

"Here we go," Sida sighs from the corner, taking a sip from her glass filled with some sort of alcoholic mixture. I smile at the woman when we make eye contact. Sure I may not like her, but I hate to see her so upset. She should be happy; she's not the one going into the games... Of course she already did.

Focus Nico, focus. I need to scope out the competition, see what I'm up against. I look to the screen to see Varro's familiar features fading into a dark screen, soon filled with white lettering that spells out District One.

They don't waste anytime, cutting right to the point where the name is called, and a female takes to the stage. Her last name I don't remember, but I hear her introduce herself as Tharia. Volunteer, definitely a threat.

"We should watch out for her, she's going to be strong," I say in a weak attempt to make myself sound observant to the others.

"You're right Nico." Asher smiles, and I smile back before returning to the screen.

The male is called Ralliath something, and it doesn't take long after he's on the stage before the bickering happens between the two.

"This is good, they're already fighting. It will cause cracks in the careers!" I beam, looking around at the others for some sort of agreement. Of course, Asher is the only one to reply. Sida seems like she couldn't care less, and Alivia looks to be zoned out, eyes fixated on the screen.

"Don't forget that Nico, it could come in handy later." I smile at Asher. I like him. For a victor he isn't that bad, generally happy go lucky, and those are my type of people.

District Two appears next, and much like District One they don't waste any time showing the tributes. The girl who steps up, Cascade, is undeniably good looking, so much so that I don't really pay attention to much else about her. Luckily, Asher is there to save the day.

"She's only 16, which means one of two things; she wasn't meant to volunteer, or she's that good that she beat out the 18 year olds. Definitely one to watch."

I nod in agreement. The boy is another volunteer, but he's rather unimpressive, claiming his spot on stage without much action.

"Nothing interesting there."

"Oh Nico, you're so wrong buddy. Never underestimate someone, especially not a career." Surprisingly it is Sida who speaks instead of Asher. Not that it matters. I still blush all the same, embarrassed by my mistake.

I stare at the ground as the screen switches to District Three. The girl is reaped, but I pay little attention to her, naturally underestimating her just because of her age and district. But then again, I'm a 14 year old District Seven boy, I bet all the other tributes see me as weak.

Alivia actually gasps at what happens next, the District Three boy who was reaped is replaced by an older, much more capable looking volunteer.

"A volunteer?" Alivia asks, sounding confused, "I don't understand."

"He wants to go to the games, he volunteers. Not much to understand." Alivia shrinks back at Sida's words, and I glare at the victor. That was no way to treat anybody, but before I can say anything Asher speaks up.

"Different last names, it's unlikely they're related," Asher puzzles, staring as the boy stands on stage.

The screen quickly switches to District Four, leaving all of us still confused over why the boy volunteered.

District Four is as expected, two older, stronger looking volunteers. Both real contenders; huge threats to me.

"They may leave very little impressions on you, but they're from Four, and should certainly not be underestimated. They both seem very capable of taking home the victor's crown." Asher's words remind me that I have to stop looking over people. Everyone is here to win, whether it be the younger girl from Three or one of the careers. We all want one thing, and that's to win.

District Five is next, and following tradition, the tributes are shown almost immediately. The girl, whose name I didn't catch, again looks rather plain but what does catch my eye is the girls slight limp.

"Could be faking it to make herself seem weaker," Asher comments. Would someone really do that? Fake an injury just to come off as less of a threat? It's actually rather smart, if she is faking. Clever girl.

The boy, who has a weird name, makes absolutely no impression on me as he makes his way to the stage.

District Six is another district that makes little to no impression. The girl, Amera, elegantly takes her place on stage showing absolutely no emotion.

I zone out as the boy is selected, and all I saw was a head of brown hair.

"Well there it is folks, the first 12 tributes! We're just going to take a quick commercial break before we continue!"

"Well, we definitely have an interesting bunch. Alivia, what do you think?"

"The careers look strong."

"What about the other tributes? The pairs from Three, Five, and Six?"

"I don't remember much of them," Alivia admits, staring down at the floor.

"That's okay. You'll have plenty of time to study them over the next week. Now, I have question before the reapings come back on. Will you two be allies, or not?"

The question shocks me. I hadn't given it much thought if I'm being honest, but as me and Alivia make eye contact, I see her raise her eyebrow slightly in a questioning way.

"Together?" I ask, smiling over at Alivia.

"Together," she repeats.

Looks like I've got myself an ally.

* * *

**Jericho Haverfield, 17  
District Eleven Male**

* * *

"They're starting up again in 5 minutes Jericho," Orondo says. "Make sure you're back in this room by the time they start again. We don't want you to miss the other tributes." I nod in recognition and then walk quickly down the hallway of the train and into my room. I immediately walk straight to the bathroom door and shut it and then lock it. I slide to the floor with my back against the door and put my face in my hands.

How am I supposed to handle all of this? I'm only 17 and I'm dealing with life and death. Orondo and Kor are asking me to memorize everything about the tributes and I just can't do that. I don't know how Eden can just sit there and act like this doesn't faze her at all.

I stand back up and move over to the sink in the bathroom. I turn on the cool water and let it fall into my hands, and splash it all over my face. I need to stay calm and collected and I need to make sure that I do what Orondo and Kor want me to do. They're my only shot at making it out of the Games alive, and I need to do whatever they want so that they'll help me get some sponsors.

After I dry my face off, I unlock the bathroom door and walk back to the main room of our part of the train just in time because I can see 'District Seven' written in green cursive ink on the television screen.

The girl that's reaped screams bloodbath to me. She's on the younger side of the age spectrum, and she's screaming and crying for somebody to help her. Her cries don't even stop when she gets to the stage, and she remains crying for the rest of the reaping. I do feel very bad for the girl, Alivia, and I want to help her. But I know that if I was to make it out of the Games, I'd need a strong alliance. She just didn't seem to be the type to want to fight, and because of that I can't ally with her, no matter how much my heart disagrees with me.

The boy is around the same age, and I also write him off as a bloodbath. He appears to be trembling and shaking even as he walks towards the stage, but I am impressed that he manages to hold in the tears. He trips and falls once he reaches the steps of the stage and I send the television a sympathetic look even though the boy on screen can't see it. It seems as if District Seven has no shot at winning this year. It's sad to see two young tributes reaped, but it's a lot better for me and my chances of winning this year.

Next up is District Eight, and it's written in cursive writing with all different colors. Makes sense since they produce textiles of all different colors.

The male that's reaped seems very calm and collected, much like I usually am. He is clenching his fists visibly, and he seems to have an angry look on his face. I think that he's going to be a rather large threat in these Games, even though he isn't that old compared to the careers. Once he makes it to the stage his keeps his hands at his sides still balled into fists, and I think that's a vain attempt to calm himself down.

The girl that's reaped, Aedre, seems very calm and doesn't seem fazed at all with what's just happened to her. She even flashes a small smile to the cameras, probably to gain some early sponsors and to show them that she's "excited" about this opportunity. She seems like she can play up the crowd well, and I think that she might be able to slide her way to the win with all the sponsors that I think she'll be able to win over.

"District Eight seems very intimidating this year," I say. Eden pokes her head up from the chair she was sitting in and nods in agreement.

"They do seem like threats," Kor agrees. "Maybe they'd be good to have as allies since they seem to be quite strong." I'm not so sure I agree with him, but in order to not cause a rift between my mentor and I, I just nod and smile and watch as District Nine appears on the screen.

The girl that was reaped is quite pretty if I do say so myself, and she is clearly not afraid to use that to her advantage. She seems to be playing up the crowd, much like the girl from 8, and winks and smiles at the cameras as she makes her way to the stage. She seems to be one of those people that likes to use their looks to get what they want. She could be very dangerous in the arena.

The male that has been reaped is a different story. He seems to be a little bit lankier than I would expect from someone who probably works in the fields all day, and I don't think that he'll be much competition. He seems a little panicked when he's first picked, but accepts his fate as he walks towards the stage and ends up shrugging a few times before he joins his district partner on the stage.

"Girl seems to be a threat but the boy seems like he'll be nothing to worry about," I say.

"You'd be surprised what people pull out of their hats once the games begin," Orondo says. I can see Eden roll her eyes as District Ten comes onto the screen.

"I'm done with watching this stuff," Eden says as she gets up and walks towards the hallway. "This is pointless. We can't tell who's going to be a threat and who isn't until we see them in the Games. If you need me, I'll be in my room."

I watch her go away and the name of the female on screen gets my attention back to the Reapings Recap. The girl that has been called is very tiny and underweight. She seems to puff out her chest I guess to make herself look tougher. It doesn't really work, but I admire her courage. I don't think that she's going to last very long, but I am hoping that when her death comes that it'll be very quick for her.

The male is a complete turn around from his partner. He is extremely fit and seems to be very athletic. He'll definitely be hard to beat in the arena, and I certainly don't want to have to face him in a fight. He seems very angry as he walks towards the stage, and it only enhances his dangerous aura. His temper maybe the one thing that I can use against him though, which provides me with some hope that I maybe able to beat him.

"Watch out for the boy Jericho," Orondo says. I nod at him and thank him for letting me know what to do, and I prepare myself to watch my own Reaping on the television.

Eden's name is called and I can't help but admire her because she kept her face void of any emotion. I guess after getting to talk to her for a little bit on the train, it makes sense why she had no emotion on her face when she was reaped- she never has any emotion on her face ever.

I watch my own reaping and internally groan at my reaction. I looked like I was so fearful, and it wasn't at all what I was hoping to come across as. I do manage to see myself smirk as the reaping comes to a close, and I'm pretty proud that I at least managed to come off as some what excited that I was reaped to the Capitolites.

When District Twelve comes onto the screen, I can't help but scoff at the fact that another weak tribute has been reaped. I feel bad for all the young ones that have been reaped, but it increases my chances of winning tenfold. This one is the youngest of them all it would seem, and she definitely doesn't seem like she'll pose a threat to me. Poor girl, she probably won't make it past the Bloodbath.

The male is once again a different story. For someone from District Twelve, he is rather in fit and seems that he could pose a threat to me. He has a scowl on his face as he makes his way towards the stage, and once he's on there he makes a face at the crowd and then glares at the escort, like he blames her for the whole ordeal he is now apart of.

The television clicks itself off in an instant after the District Twelve tributes are introduced one more time, and I turn myself around to face Kor and Orondo.

"Any idea on allies that you might want Jericho?" Kor asks me.

"I think I might have a few ideas, but before I commit to something I want to see how they each perform in training first." I stand up from the couch and begin to walk towards the door to my hallway where my room is. "May I be excused?"

Orondo makes a gesture with his hand that indicates that I may go to my room, and I open the door to the hallway and begin to walk to my room. I spot Eden at the end of the hallway, sitting in the corner and watching the trees go by as we speed on towards the Capitol.

"Everything okay?" I ask. She looks up at me from her spot on the floor.

"I'm fine."

"Alright, if you need me you know where to find me."

"Thanks." With that little awkward exchange done, I walk into my room and shut the door behind me. I wonder why she's so short and to the point. Why does she never want to delve into a personal conversation with me? I can't be that scary. Can I?

If the rest of the trip before the Games is anything like today has been, this is going to be a long, depressing ride.

* * *

**Aedre Moidart, 16  
District Eight Female**

* * *

"So what's life like for a victor?" I smile up at Chance as he sits on the couch alongside Velvet. His smile quickly fades, a look of worry appearing on his face.

"It's great. We have everything we could ever need and more," he says, his smile returning to his pale face.

"If I had your money, I'd give it to the poor."

"We do, all the time!" Velvet smiles, glancing over to where Fuller sits silently.

"Are you ok Fuller?" I ask, attempting to reel the boy into the conversation.

"Yes, fine!" he says, smiling up at me. Fuller's an interesting one. He's not distant or rude, he's actually rather nice. But he's not one to keep a conversation going really. He'll answer your questions and talk to you, but he doesn't initiate the conversation, he's just kind of weird.

"What did you two think of the other tributes?" Chance asks, glancing between the two of us.

"The careers are strong, as always." I nod in agreement with Fuller's statement. In all honestly, the careers were the only ones I really payed attention too. I vaguely remember a few others, like the little girl from Twelve, but mostly I was thinking about how easily I was forgetting each tribute that was shown. How on earth could the Capitol remember us all? So many tributes each year, it would be easy for tributes to just slip under the radar, never drawing much attention, and then when they died, they'd be forever forgotten.  
I can't have that. I can't be forgotten.

"What about you Aedre, anyone interesting?" I smile up at Velvet without thinking, desperately searching my brain for any tributes that stood out.

"The boy from Three, the volunteer, he was interesting," I sigh, good, she won't think I'm useless.

"Yes, that was certainly something we don't see everyday."

"The boys from Ten, Eleven, and Twelve all look surprisingly strong this year," Fuller notes, barely raising his head. I do remember noticing that all three were older, and stronger looking than what those districts normally produce.

"There's a high chance they'll ally, it's not uncommon for those three districts to band together."

"Speaking of allies, what are your guys thoughts on the idea?"

"I'll be going alone," Fuller quickly says, before I could even process the question.

"Are you sure?" Velvet asks, concern obvious in her tone of voice.

"Yes," Fuller deadpans. Velvet sends a worrying glance in Chance's direction before continuing.

"If you insist, though I don't know if it's a good idea. What about you Aedre?"

"I plan to find someone," I say, thinking back to who I pegged as ally material.

"Don't decide now, you'll have to meet some of the other tributes first." I nod, but before I can respond the train cart instantly dims. I stand up and quickly look around, my blood curdling.

"What is happening?" I scream, looking over to where Fuller stands, alarm written all over his face.

I turn to the sound of giggling, to see Velvet and Chance barely containing their laughter.

"What's so funny?" Fuller demands.

"Everything's fine, we're just going through the tunnel that surrounds the Capitol." My cheeks instantly feel heated. I quickly take my seat, keeping my eyes on the ground in embarrassment.

"Come on guys, that was funny," Chance laughs, but neither Fuller or I respond.

"The good news is, we've arrived." I don't see how that's good news, but I still can't help myself but look up and out the window as the Capitol begins to come into view.

I hate to say it, but it's beautiful. Breath taking even. The way the buildings are built to the sky, and all the bright colors and the way the sun glistens off of everything. It's too much to take in at once.

"Beautiful isn't?" There's no denying it, the Capitol wasn't disappointing in appearance at all.

"Now, you guys should be prepared for when we get off the train."

"Is it going to be like when we boarded the train?" I ask, thinking back to all the cameras and questions, and just the general feeling of being overwhelmed that came with the Capitol reporters.

"It's going to be worse, a lot worse." Oh joy, I think, not looking forward to be bombarded again.

"You'll be fine," Velvet attempts to reassure, gently patting my back. I don't believe her though, how could I? We're going into the Hunger Games, a place were I'll most likely die a painful death. Sure that's scary, but that's not what I'm most terrified of. What if I'm forgotten? What if I die, and a few years later the name Aedre Moidart is never spoken again, and people completely forget about me? That's what I'm most afraid of; being forgotten. Just like Alston.

"Are you ready?" I nod, dying to get this over with.

Before anything else is said, Chance pushes the door open, and the chaos begins.

Flashes are everywhere, and I'm momentarily blinded. Questions are coming at me in all directions, people asking things from how good I think my chances are to my favorite color. I ignore most of the questions, instead putting on a big smile and gently pushing my way through the mass of people, and surprisingly it doesn't take as long as I thought.  
As I push through the final people, I turn around to search for the rest of them. It doesn't take long before Fuller joins my side, looking more than a little flustered.

"Where's Velvet and Chance?" I ask, and Fuller simply nods to where Velvet and Chance stand just a few feet from the train door, completely surrounded in people. Suddenly, it clicks. I'm a rather unimpressionable, unimpressive girl from one of the poorer districts. I don't get much attention, which means I'm going to be forgotten. Unless… unless I win. It's as simple as that, even years after their games Chance and Velvet still got more attention than Fuller and I, simply because their victors. They're never forgotten, ever. Their names will forever be carved in history, but what of the 23 other tributes that went into their games? Not a trace of any of them.

Well, I guess I'm going to have to win the Hunger Games, how hard could it even be?

* * *

_Living in ruins of the palace within my dreams;  
and you'll know, we're on each other's team._

* * *

**Song: **Team  
**Artist: **Lorde

**A/N: **Hello readers! First and foremost, I would like to apologize for the delay in the update. Fin and I both had exams the past week, so it was very hard to squeeze in writing during that time. However, Fin and I are both exam free this upcoming week so we should be good with updating on time this weekend!

Just an important announcement about updating: Starting in June, updates will be very slow. Possibly non-existent until the last week. The reason is because I have my finals and regents exams for 2 weeks in June, and the week before those weeks is packed with review classes and studying for the exams. Sorry about that.

Other than that announcement, here are the questions.

* * *

_**Questions:**_

_**Which POV was your favorite?**_

_**Which tribute(s) stood out to you this chapter?**_

* * *

Hope you enjoyed the chapter and Fin and I would love to see you guys drop a review! It always keeps us motivated and makes it more pleasant to write knowing what you guys think. Once again, sorry for the delay!

-Fin and Ace


	5. Shelter

_"I find shelter, in this way;  
Under cover, hide away."_

* * *

**Penelope Winnow, 15  
District Five Female**

* * *

I smile as the door to the remake centre is finally shut. Don't get me wrong, I loved all the attention I was getting, but it got to be a little too much, even for me.

Especially when they started asking about my limp. It's not among my top ten topics to discuss, that's for sure. But it always seems to come up, as if it's the only thing about me worth noting.

"Wasn't too bad, now was it?" Evanna asks, smiling at myself and Creighton.

"Not bad at all," I admit, smiling up at the red-headed woman. Evanna is among the nicest victors, or so I gather from watching the games. She always seems upset when she's interviewed after her tributes death, which means she actually cares about her tributes, which is something I don't plan on taking for granted.

"What's up next?"

"Well Creighton, we are going to meet your stylist," Troy answers, looking around for someone.

"Mia, how are you dear?" Evanna greets as an Asian lady approaches us.

"Oh you know, busy, stressed, excited! It is that time of the year!" Of course she's excited, she's never had to worry about the games, unlike the rest of us here.

"Well, we don't want to waste any time! I think we have a real shot this year!" Mia glances at us before returning her attention to Evanna and making a face that makes my stomach drop. It's one of those, 'you got to be joking?' looks, the one that says she has no hope in neither myself or Creighton making it very far.

Evanna doesn't say a word, instead she nods, motioning for Mia to lead the way. I follow, staring at the ground as I pass numerous random people.

We pass through many doors and turn many corners, but I don't look up from the ground until we drop Creighton off.

"This is where the boy's stylist is. Go on in dear." Creighton follows without a word, pushing through the door without so much as a goodbye to any of us.

"Charming," Mia comments, turning on her heels and continuing her trek to where I assume my stylist awaits.

"What's your name?" I look up to see that Mia has slowed down, and now walks in sync with me.

"Penelope, but you can call me Penny."

"That's a beautiful name, and for such a pretty girl! Your stylist is going to be so happy with you!" I smile at the woman's words. Pretty is not something most people used to describe me, not that people talk about me using anything other than words like 'limp' and 'seizure'.

"Are you excited for the games?" Mia asks, after I don't reply for a few moments.

"I'm more nervous than anything."

"Don't be nervous dear, you'll do great!" I shrug in response, knowing that she doesn't truly believe I'll make it any further than the bloodbath. I will though, of course I will. I need to get home; back to District Five, my parents, my life. I won't just give up on it all, I can't. I'll fight, even with my obvious disadvantages.

"Well, here we are! Good luck!" I stop in front of the door that Evanna, Troy, and Mia are all crowded around.

"We'll see you before the parade, don't worry Penelope," Evanna reassures, gently squeezing my shoulder.

I let out a big breath before I push through the door.

I'm met with a large room full of many different things, including a bathtub the size of my room. My old room I guess.

"Hello, you must be Penelope." I nearly jump as a tall, blonde woman appears from behind a shelf.

"Call me Penny," I smile over at the woman, who I assume to be my stylist.

"I'm Poma, and I'm your stylist! I'm sure you've had a busy ride here, so why don't we sit down and chat for a little while. Maybe get to know each other before we begin." Poma extends her hand to where two plush chairs are set adjacent to each other. I happily oblige, drifting over and gratefully taking a seat.

"I'll start by telling you a little about myself. As you know my name is Poma. I'm 29, and I live in a smaller apartment above a nifty little antique shop. I'm single, with no kids, and don't plan on having any." Not exactly sure why I'd ever need to know half of that, but I nod anyways, letting her know I'm listening.

"Now it's your turn," she prompts.

"Well, I'm Penny, but you already know that," I let out a small giggle, receiving one from Poma as well, before continuing.

"I'm from District Five, and I also live in a small apartment. I'm married, with 3 kids," I stay straight-faced through my whole speech, watching as Poma's face goes from intrigued to horrified.

"My husband is also quite the druggy, so there's that," I say, pretending to be sad.

"Oh you poor thing," Poma gasps, sounding horrified as she wraps me in a tight hug.

"Hey Poma?" I say as she returns to her own chair.

"Yes?"

"All of that was a lie, I have no husband or kids. I'm only 15!" I stifle a laugh as I watch as another horrified expression appears on Poma's face, an expression that quickly turns to laughter of her own. We stay like that for a while actually, just sitting and enjoying the other person's laughter. My joke really wasn't that funny at all, but with the combination of my impending doom and hearing Poma laugh, I find it hard to keep a straight face.

"So what's your life really like?" Poma asks after we have both calmed down.

"Honestly, it was great. Sure we didn't have a lot and we faced our problems, but we had each other and we made each other happy. My family is the only reason I plan to win these games."

"Sounds like you love your family quite a lot."

"I do," I answer truthfully.

"Then I guess we're going to have to work extra hard to get you home, eh?"

"I like you Poma," I say with a smile.

"I like you too Penny."

Just like Poma said, I am going to work extra hard to win these games. I have to; I refuse to leave my parents alone.

I'll win these games, and I'll go home and spend the rest of my life living happily with my parents. We'll be happy again, just like we were before our last visit to the doctor. We'll forget what he told us, and live as if everything is normal.

I'm going to win these games, and I'm going to be happy again, because I refuse to live my last few months here on earth unhappy.

* * *

**Cascade Farlane, 16  
District Two Female**

* * *

"Do you really think it matters how straight my hair is?" I spit as once again one of the idiots deemed my prep team burns my ear with her straightening tool.

"Everything has to be perfect," she replies, pulling at my hair some more.

"No it doesn't. It doesn't matter what I look like." These idiots are intolerable, as if all I need to win is to look pretty. No, looks are nothing in these games. There are more important things, such as oh I don't know, being able to fight!

"This whole thing is a waste of time. Why not just send us into the games already?" I complain, picking at my 'perfectly' painted nails.

No one responds, instead they all work harder, pulling at my hair, painting my nails, rubbing some nasty lotion all over my legs. This is all pointless really. Who cares how pretty I am? Pretty doesn't win the games.

"Almost done, and then we can get you into your outfit!" I send a sarcastic smile to the woman crouched on the floor, the one who is currently painting my toenails. Seriously, who the hell is going to look at my toenails?

"You should see your dress, really it's stunning."

"I hope it's better then what you're wearing," I point out, almost disgusted by the scanty amount of clothing the woman is wearing. She just snorts in response, purposely smearing a little polish on my skin, as if it that would ruin my chances in the games. What it could do though, was ruin her career.

"I'll be sure to show my stylist what you just did there." The panic is clear in her face as she quickly wipes up her little mess.

I smirk, happy that the little brat is scared.

Really, there are so many more productive things I could be doing right now; solidifying my alliance, scoping out the others, practicing my skills. Oh wait, as if I need practice.

"Alright, it's time Cascade! Let's get you into your outfit!" The barely dressed woman scampers across the room, and retrieves a large black bag.

"I'm so excited," I mock, staring emotionlessly at the bag. The woman quickly unzips it, revealing the most hideous thing I have ever seen.

"You call that a dress?"

"You'll resemble a gladiator," someone whispers.

"I am not wearing that," I decide, looking away from it disgustingly.

"You have to Cascade, you don't have a choice," the woman says, though her tone proves she's not as confident in her words as she'd like to think.

"Do I?"

"You do."

I huff, looking back over at the hideous outfit. It's grey for the most part, with a few red stripes here and there. It's rather plain if you ask me, but what's hideous about it is how high it rides; the thing will barely cover my butt! Not to mention how low it rides on the chest.

But, unfortunately for me, slutty girl is right. I have no choice.

I quickly grab the thing, stepping into and pulling it up.

"Zip me up," I demand, not bothering to look at myself in the mirror.

"There you go," someone says after I feel the zipper ride up my back.

"You do look good," another one comments, but I pay him no attention.

A few moments later there is a knock on the door, and low and behold my favorite person on this earth struts in.

"Jasmine!" I cheer sarcastically. The woman's eyes quickly scan over me, before she nods in approval.

"Let's get going."

"Gladly," Jasmine exits the room without another word, and I quickly follow without so much as a thank you to the idiots who just 'helped' me.

Jasmine doesn't acknowledge me the whole walk to the elevator, nor do I attempt to start anything. Definitely not in the mood for chit chat.

It doesn't take long before me and Jasmine are standing silently in the small elevator, as it descends at a rapid pace.

"Good luck," Jasmine quietly says, before the door pushes open and she stalks out, disappearing into the mass of people.

I walk out, quickly scanning the crowd for Colton or anybody really that I might recognize.

It doesn't take me long to spot Colton. He's standing alone; quite awkward looking really, by what I presume is our chariot.

Pushing my way through the crowd, I quickly reach him.

"I see you got a similar outfit." Colton nods, staring down at his matching gladiator suit.

"Have you talked to anyone?"

"No, I was waiting for you."

"Why thank you. District One first?" Colton nods. I turn to see our selected tributes, standing together though neither seem to be communicating with each other.

"You guys look ridiculous," I say as we approach the barely dressed pair from One.

"Coming from you, bitch."

"Tharia," the boy whispers at his district partner, but I pay him no mind.

"Great first impression, sparkles." Really, you can't expect me not to comment on the pairs outfit. They're literally wearing nothing but underwear, and are completely covered in what appear to be sparkles.

"What are you supposed to be? A slut?"

"Bad time to walk in, I presume." I turn around to see a barely dressed pair from Four.

"I see District Two is the only one given real clothes this year," the boy comments, motioning towards the blue speedo he's wearing.

"Well, I guess this is it then huh," the boy from One laughs.

"What?"

"Look at us, the careers, the most intimidating tributes all dressed like shall I say, sluts."

"We're not the only ones." I look around to see that the bikini girl from Four is right. It seems as if there's a little competition going on between the stylists; who can dress their tribute using the least amount of fabric?

"Tributes, please board your chariots." A loud voice says from no where.

"I guess we'll see you guys later," Ralliath says, turning to climb his chariot.  
We all disperse without a word, walking back to our designated chariots.

"What do you think?" I ask Colton once we're out of ear shot from the others. In response he just shakes his head. I nod in agreement.

Sure, now we all look like idiots, dressed ridiculously but we're a strong bunch. That much is obvious. And if we follow tradition, we won't last long together. We all have too big of personalities to mesh well together, I can already tell me and Tharia will not be getting a long and who knows about Four.

We won't last long, we all know that, but we also all want to survive. Which means it won't take long for someone to turn on someone else, and the only way to ensure I won't be turned on is if I make sure I'm the first to turn.

* * *

**Teagan Harper, 18  
District Twelve Male**

* * *

"Oh, you're just going to look so fabulous out there!" My stylist squeals into my ears and I cringe involuntarily. It's not that I don't appreciate her trying to help me, it's just the manner that she helps me in annoys me.

She quickly tugs down on the back of my black boxers, which is all the clothing I'm wearing, and pats some more coal dust all over my body. The dust starts to fill the room as she pats it on, and I cough as the powder fills me lungs and starts to make it hard to breathe. Thankfully, she stops patting on the coal dust and starts to lead me out of the room.

"Oh! Wait one second darling," she says as she scurries back into the room. She comes back out with a bright orange hat with a small yellow light on the front of it that is currently off. "This will complete the miners look!"

Once the hat is situated on my head and my hair is re-positioned by my stylist, I am ushered down a hallway and towards an elevator. Down the other end of the hallway walking towards me is Acelynn, and she is dressed quite similarly to me. Unlike me however, she is mostly clothed. Good. A girl her age shouldn't be exposed so much on national television.

As we get closer, I can see that she has on a longer black skirt that reaches just below her knees, and like me, she is barefoot. She has a similar orange miner's hat to my own, and coal dust is dusted all over her entire body. As we get closer to each other, I can see her blushing, probably from the fact that I'm practically naked and she's only a thirteen year old girl.

Acelynn and I turn towards the elevators and as we turn I see Amoretta standing next to one of the elevators. I greet her with a nod of my head, and Acelynn runs over to her and gives her a quick hug. Amoretta gives a slight chuckle and pushes Acelynn off of her as she laughs. "Acelynn, now you've gotten coal dust all over me!"

Amoretta, Acelynn, and I all laugh but Acelynn's stylist squeals and starts to wait about how her hard work has all come crashing down because of a stupid kid. Amoretta immediately sends a scowl towards the direction of the stylist and ushers myself and Acelynn into the elevator once the doors open. Amoretta pushes a small, circular button with her slender finger and the doors immediately close, leaving our stylists up on our floor.

"Just remember you two; you have to smile and wave. The Capitol laps up that kind of stuff. They like it when the tributes engage them. It makes them feel important and wanted." Amoretta finishes her advice just as the elevator dings and we reach the area below the building. She ushers us out of the elevator and starts to lead us towards the Chariot Rides area. I can see the three career districts congregating at the District One Chariot, and I'm not impressed. They're dressed as they always are; slutty but looking good. No wonder the Capitol always favors them.

"Don't pay attention to the careers, they aren't worth your time," Amoretta advises us and continues to lead us towards our chariot. I spot the District Three tributes by their chariot and I am blinded by their outfit. They have blue, skin tight clothes on them and they have glowing wires around their whole body. I'm not sure what they're representing, but at least they're fully clothed.

We continue to walk down the line of Chariots, and when we approach the District Seven Chariot, Acelynn's eyes light up. Of course she's probably excited, because they're the only other people here that would even think about allying with Acelynn. I myself crossed off that possibility a while ago, even though she is a sweet kid I know allying with her would only mean suicide, and I need to get home.

"Go on and mingle Acelynn," Amoretta says with a smile. "Just make sure when the announcement comes on about the Chariot Rides beginning, you hurry over to the Chariot with Teagan okay?" Acelynn gives Amoretta a smile and a nod before she hurries over to the District Seven tributes. I watch as the kids from Seven beam their smiles at her and quickly engage in conversation with her. Looks like the kid is already doing better than I am.

"I'm going to go talk with Sida and Asher, see if we can't maybe work some things out about pooling out sponsor money together to make it easier to help them out. Don't worry though, I'll keep any money you get separately. Your Chariot is the last one in the line of them. You don't have to get in until they tell you over the announcement." Amoretta scurries on over to the District Seven mentors and I turn around and begin to walk to my designated Chariot.

It's great that Acelynn has allies, now I don't feel so guilty about not wanting to ally with her. I don't necessarily not want allies, but I just don't think any of these people fit what I want. None of them are like Crowe and Sofia, and I doubt that any alliance that I make would last.

I mean I should be good at making allies, since I speak to people rather often with the job I have back in District Twelve. Being the courier, I get to speak to all different people in District Twelve, even the people who aren't in my class. I love my job, and it's always fun to talk to people throughout the District. But again, none of the people here match anyone I've ever talked to in District Twelve, and I don't want to make an alliance that I don't think will work. It's better to go in trusting only yourself and then you won't get hurt.

If only Crowe was here. Being best friends with someone your whole entire life and then leaving in a matter of minutes to go fight for your life really pus a damper on things. It makes me miss him that much more knowing I may never see him ever again. I remember when we first met, and I remember being so fascinated by what he was saying about all the different types of birds.

What I wouldn't give to hear another fact about a different bird from Panem.\

I finally reach the Chariot designated to my District and I climb up into the Chariot. The seat is cold and made of metal, but it's a seat none the less. I stare over into the District Eleven Chariot and notice the girl sitting down in the chariot as far away from her partner as possible, arms and hands wrapped around her body in a futile attempt to cover her over exposed body. I feel bad for the girl seeing as she's clearly uncomfortable with her also overexposed district partner next to her.

Come to think of it, all of the outfits are making a lot of the tributes quite exposed this year. I guess a common theme ran throughout all of the stylists this year: make the tributes look as slutty as possible. I'm sure Crowe and Sofia will get a laugh out of my outfit though, and I snicker at the thought of me seeing one of them dressed up like this.

"Tributes, please head to your designated Chariots. The Chariot Rides are about to begin!" The crackle of the speakers dies out as the voice fades away, and I see Acelynn scurrying over towards the Chariot. I stand up from my seat and offer my hand down to her as she climbs up into the Chariot with me.

"Remember what Amoretta said to us," I whisper in her ear. "We have to smile and wave and pretend like we enjoy this. Can you do that Acelynn?" She smiles up at me and nods. I give a curt nod and a small smile to her and then face my direction to the back of the District Eleven Chariot.

Soon my life will be out in front of all of Panem, and as much as I wish I can cover up myself I know I can't do that. I have to present myself to Panem in a good light, and I have to make the Capitol people like me. No matter what it takes I will survive.

I have to survive. Not only for my family, but for my friends too.

For my district.

For Amoretta.

For me.

* * *

**Ingrid Nelson, 15  
District Ten Female**

* * *

"Tributes, please head to your designated Chariots. The Chariot Rides are about to begin!" The voice overhead crackles and disappears as all the straggling tributes make their ways to their own chariots. Duncan and I were already situated in our Chariot as we didn't feel like mingling with the other tributes would do us much good.

"This costume irritates me to no end," I whisper to myself as I tug on the skin tight jeans and pull up the pink tube top I'm forced to wear. "I don't understand why we're dressed like this. We're already giving them enough entertainment by fighting each other to the death."

"They just want a good show Ingrid, that's all they want. All this stuff is just to entertain them before they cheer for our blood in the arena." Duncan puts his arm around me and gives me a quick squeeze for comfort and then he lets go. I'm grateful that I have Duncan as a district partner. He's caring enough and it seems like he'd be willing to have an alliance with me. I'm hoping he's not just one of the people that stabs their allies in the back on Night One.

"Tributes: The Parade will begin in one minute!" The announcement slowly dies out and I grasp Duncan's hand.

"We can do this Duncan," I say and he gives a slight smirk in recognition and then the doors all the way in front of us open up, and immediately my hearing is drowned out by the sound of the cheering crowds. I can only imagine Mera in this situation; she probably would have thrown herself off of the chariot before going out in front of this amount of people.

All I can remember is playing in the fields with Mera and Lara when we were little kids. Mera always had the most wonderful fields by her house, and sometimes we would just lie down and laugh in the fields and other times we would ride our horses throughout the fields. I wish I could just go back in time and tell them how much our time together meant to me, but I can't do that.

I have to do what I can in the present. And that means waving and smiling like nothing is bothering me and that I like to be here. If swallowing my pride and acting like this is the greatest thing ever helps me survive, then so be it.

District One rolls out through the large oak doors and I watch on one of the many television screens in the room as they wave and blow kisses to the crowd. I'm pretty sure the girl is wearing just a bra and some underwear, while the rest of her body is covered in glittering sparkles. She has gems spread across her cheeks in intricate patters and she is really playing up the crowd. She's blowing kisses and waving her other hand at the crowd, and I can see why she calls herself a career. She's very intimidating.

Her partner on the other hand is quite attractive if I do say so myself. Focus Ingrid, focus. He seems to be wearing only a version of boxers that are bedazzled with sparkles, and much like his partner he is covered in glitter all over his body. He also plays up the crowd very well, and I can hear the chants for District One all the way from back here. No wonder they're a career district, they really know what they're doing.

District Two seems to be a little less impressive. The girl is wearing a revealing gladiator dress which reveals a little more than it should, but it does make her look very strong and intimidating. Much like the girl from One, she also waves at the crowd but keeps her face stony and just looking ahead. The boy seems to be very awkward in his costume, and he doesn't seem as threatening as the others have appeared to be. He's wearing clunky armor that seems to be trying to represent a gladiator's outfit, but it just isn't working for him. I have a feeling he'll be the weakest link in the career pack this year.

District Three roles out and I can't help but like their outfit. It's certainly creative, and I like how the stylist used their district's staple as the vehicle for their outfit. They sport skin tight blue suits, and then have wires wrapped around the whole of their bodies. They wires seem to glow brighter as the cheers get louder for them, and it's a creative invention. The boy seems to be more into it than the girl, and he's the one of the two of them that seems to be playing up the crowd more. The girl seems slightly bored by all of this, and every once in a while she gives a half hearted wave, but other than that she doesn't seem to do anything.

District Four comes out and I can't help but not be surprised at the skimpiness of their outfits. Looks like the careers are going for the slut look this year. The girl is wearing a simple sea blue bikini outfit, and she's waving at all the people of the crowd. The boy is just wearing a skimpy little blue speedo, and I think I can actually see the outline of something a girl my age should not be seeing. They both play up the crowd quite well, and overall the careers this year are really intimidating me this year.

I snort at the sight of the District Five tribute's outfits. The boy is wearing shiny silver pants, no shirt, and a giant satellite on his head. He seems less than impressed by this, and I can see the look on his face that just screams that he wants this to be over. The girl looks mortified by what she's wearing. She's wearing a short, luminous silver skirt and also has a giant satellite on her head. Neither of them seem to be trying to attract the sponsors which is just going to hurt them in the long run.

As District Six begins to enter the screen, my stomach does a few flips. Not too much longer and I'll be out there.

Don't worry Ingrid, you'll do fine. Focus, focus. Prove to mom and dad why you weren't a mistake. Show them what you can do. Show them that you aren't a burden.

District Six's outfits are a less revealing compared to the other districts outfits so far. The girl has a train conductor's skirt on and she is dusted with some sort of coal all over her, as well as there is a gash going down through the middle of her chest. The boy has a similar thing going on, as he has a train conductor's suit on and some soot all over him as well as his shirt is split open, revealing most of his upper body. They both play up the crowd nicely, and I'm surprised people from Six have that much charisma.

District Seven seems to be dressed like some sort of tree creatures, but with very little clothing on them despite their young age. Both of them are playing up the adorable angle however, and the crowd is lapping it up. I can't even imagine them being killed by someone, but it has to happen if I want to go home to my parents and my friends.

District Eight's costume is rather unique. Their bodies are painted completely white and there seems to be black lines going throughout their body. Their clothes look like clothes that dolls would wear. Oh! I get it. Their bodies look like cracked dolls. Very creative by their stylists. The boy seems to be very uninterested in what is going on around him, but the girl seems to be very into the crowd and is waving at every opportunity she gets.

The Chariot right in front of us begins to slide out through the large oak doors, and I internally squeal. Almost there where everyone can see me.

District Nine has tan jumpsuits covering their whole body and hugging everything that they have. They also have wheat tied into their hair, giving the impressions that their hair is actually just wheat. The boy looks rather awkward as their chariot rolls through the square, while the girl seems to be having the time of her life out there. She's waving, blowing kisses, and the crowd seems to be loving her. I can hear her name being chanted by the crowd, and I can't help but be a bit envious that the crowd may remember her and not me.

Just as I am about to say something to Duncan, our chariot lurches forward and we roll through the doors and into the bathing sunlight. I can feel the sun on my skin as the wind rushes over my over-exposed body, and I force myself to wave and smile. This is it Ingrid, this is your time to shine. Show them all what you're made of. Show mom and dad that you're not the mistake you're made out to be.

I can hear the crowd chanting my name as I fake my smiles and robotically move my hand in a vain attempt to gain their attention. Some of them are still focused on the chariot in front of me while others begin to look back at the District Eleven tributes. No matter, I'm sure enough people have looked at me and I can still hear some of the people chanting my name, so I think I was quite successful.

See mom and dad, I can be successful. I'm not just a 'mistake'. I was put here for a reason.

I'm not a mistake.

* * *

**Mycroft Koup, 16  
District Nine Male**

* * *

"Well, what did you think?" Maybelle's soft voice asks as soon as the elevator door opens to reveal our floor.

"I think a lot of people liked us," Crescent says, strutting into the room.

"It seems as if we received a fair amount of cheers."

"A fair amount? You guys blew up the place!" Maybelle encourages, motioning for us to join her and Cherry at the table.

"To blow up the place, we would have needed to have something like dynamite. I bet you didn't know that peanuts are sometimes used in dynamite!"

Cherry let's out a loud moan, whispering something I don't quite pick up, but I believe I hear the word brat in there somewhere.

"I didn't know that Mycroft, thank you." I smile and nod, taking my seat across from Maybelle.

"So, I'm guessing this is one of our ever informational strategy meetings?" Crescent says sarcastically, sitting down beside me.

"Tomorrow training does start you know." Of course I know, but maybe Crescent has already forgotten. Though how she could have is beyond me.

"I'm going to need a drink, and something to eat for this," Cherry says, getting up and disappearing into the door that leads to the kitchen.

"She eats a lot."

"Mycroft! That is not something you say." I look over at Maybelle, and see she has a stern look on her face which usually means she isn't joking.

"What?"

"He has no idea what he did wrong," Crescent sighs, and I look at her, confused. I did something wrong?

"It's not polite to talk about how much a person eats, even if it may be true." That doesn't make sense. How is talking about the amount of food a person eats not polite? I was merely pointing out an observation.

"Regardless, it's time to get down to business. I know we talked about this on the train, but you've had enough time to think about it. Will the two of you be allying?"

"It seems only logical, after all, finding someone else would just be pointless when I have a perfectly useful District partner."

"Honestly, not sure if I should be honored, or insulted?" Crescent is a weird one, one who gets confused easily when I talk. But then again it seems as if most people do.

"Regardless, brains over here could come in handy so yes, we'll be allies."

"That's great! Now, will it just be the two of you?"

"Of course, " I say quickly. "Adding anyone else would just complicate things, not only would we risk being back stabbed but we would have more people to look after and we'd be easier targets."

"You mean I'm stuck with just you?" Crescent and Maybelle both laugh, but I don't get it.

"You're not stuck with me, you can walk away anytime you'd like."

"It was a joke Mycroft, learn to laugh a little."

"I laugh all the time, anyways, what else do we need to discuss?"

Maybelle looks down at her notepad before beginning to speak again.

"Next, we need to decide whether or not the two of you shall appear as one, or pretend to have no connection what so ever?"

"We might as well appear as one so we can get to know each others strengths and weaknesses."

"But you'll be labeled as more of a target as a pair."

"They can target me all they want, I can handle them."

Before I can interject and remind Crescent how reckless she's being, Cherry waltzes back in, a tray of food in her left hand and a bottle of something else in her right.

"What did I miss?"

"Mycroft and Crescent have decided to be allies."

"There used to be a cat that ran around my part of town, anyways, he had orange hair just like yours! Did you know cats have 32 muscles in their ears? Pretty cool eh?"

"Shut up Mycroft." What did I do now?

"Cherry," Maybelle whispers, shaking her head at the younger woman.

"What? The kid's an idiot! Who cares how many muscles a cat has or whatever, that's not what he should be thinking about right now! He's going into the games in a few days!" I frown at Cherry's words, not really understanding what she means. Of course I know I'm going into the games in a few days, and I'm not an idiot.

"That's enough," Maybelle scowls, glaring at Cherry. In response, Cherry shrugs, grabbing the bottle she walked in with and pouring a small amount of the liquid into a very small glass.

"Shot?"

"You know I don't drink that stuff."

"I wasn't talking to you," Cherry says, pouring another glass and sliding it, until it rests directly in front of Crescent.

"Is that alcohol?"

"Yes Mycroft, I assume you don't want one?"

"That's… that's bad," is all I manage to mutter.

"Ah what the hell." I glance over at Crescent, and to my surprise I see her raise the glass to her lips and down the whole cup in one swig.

"What are you doing?" I yell, ripping the glass out of her hand.

"Having a little fun. You should try it sometime."  
"Do you know all the damage that can do to your brain? Memory loss, blackouts? Let alone your liver!"

"Oh really? Tell me more!" Crescent smiles at me, but as she does she grabs another glass that Cherry has recently poured and downs it without hesitation.

"Come on now Mycroft, we all want to hear all the nifty little facts you have stored up in that brain of yours!" Crescent is almost yelling now, and honestly, it's starting to scare me. For a 15 year old girl, she's quite intimidating.

"What? You got things to say?" Crescent downs another drink, reaching for another one.

"I think that's enough," Maybelle says, reaching for the bottle Cherry and Crescent have halfway drained.

"She's my tribute! I'll say when it's enough," Cherry laughs, pouring two more glasses and handing one to Crescent.

I've had enough. Standing up, I reach for the glass Cherry had poured for Crescent and throw it as hard as I can at the wall, watching with satisfaction as it shatters.

"Mycroft..." Maybelle trails off, three sets of eyes staring in disbelief at me.

"I-I- don't.."

"I think it's time we all got some rest," Maybelle suggests, and for once Cherry agrees.

"Come on Crescent, I'll walk you to bed," Cherry smiles, holding up the still half bottle and winking. Crescent nods, quickly following Cherry as she exits the room.

"Are you ok?" Maybelle whispers.

"Fine." But am I? I've never done anything like that before. I don't know what took over me, but I just couldn't stand and watch Crescent poison herself.

"She'll be fine, Cherry will take care of her."

"But she's my ally, and she's probably dead from that alcohol by now."

"Cherry may be a lot of things, but what she isn't is dumb. She'll make sure Crescent's ok, don't you worry!"

I guess Maybelle's right. Cherry couldn't risk killing one of the Capitol's precious tributes before The Games even start. She'd lose her life.

"Are you nervous for tomorrow?"

"Not at all," I say truthfully. "No point worrying about the future, what happens will happen and there's nothing I can do to change it."

Maybelle nods in understanding, before walking over and beginning to pick up the shards of glass.

"Don't. You'll only cut yourself, and do you know how easy it is to get an infection from a small cut if it isn't looked after?"

"No, but I'm sure you do, and that'll come in handy once you reach The Games!"  
I smile, realizing that yes, I do know something helpful going into this.

"I'll call an avox to get this, you just get to bed. After all it is getting late and you need your eight hours, right?" I grin, happy that Maybelle actually listened when I told her about my minimum eight hours of sleep.

"Yes, indeed I do. Night Maybelle, sweet dreams."

I exit the room, but before the door shuts I hear Maybelle swear under her breath, and look back to see her holding a piece of glass. Of course, Maybelle would never make an avox clean up something she could. She's completely selfless, it makes me wonder how she even won her games.

"Make sure you wash that out before bandaging it," I yell before the door shuts.

"Yeah yeah, go to bed!" I chuckle, walking down to my room. Tonight was definitely an interesting one. I gained an ally, and threw a glass, something I still don't understand. But it's in the past now, and there's no point dwelling on it.

Slipping out of my clothes, I slip into bed. There's constant giggles coming from Crescent's room, but it doesn't take me long before I'm nearly asleep.

I really hope I can do this, but realistically, can I?

* * *

_"Can you hear, when I say;  
I have never felt this way."_

* * *

**Shelter by Birdy.**

A/N: Hello all! I know what you're thinking right now; is this a dream? Did Cloud Nine really update again?

Yes we are back and should be back to normal updating. Exams really got in the way of myself and Fin writing much (mainly me), but now that school is out for me and only a couple days left for Fin, we should be back to regularly scheduled updates.

The next update should come next weekend, and after that update we only have 2 more pre-Games chapters!

The blog will be updated with alliances as they form, so make sure to check out the blog every once in a while to see the updated alliances!

By the way, if anyone out there watches the World Cup; US is really rocking it ;)

* * *

_**Questions: **_

1. Which POV stood out to you the most and why?

2. Which tributes do you think will ally with each other?

* * *

Thanks for reading everyone, and we would love it if you dropped a review telling us what you thought! Hope to see you all next weeked!

-Ace and Fin


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